


Let me make you happy

by chemicalcandy



Series: Let me make you happy [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Dom Gerard Way, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mindfuck, Psychopath Gerard, Sexual Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6978853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalcandy/pseuds/chemicalcandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is just a normal guy - maybe a little lonely, and not exactly rich, and he might smoke a little too much - but he's generally fine. When he ends up in the middle of a forest at the dead of night after his car broke down, Gerard happens to drive by. Frank is really happy at first - Gerard offers to get him to the next town. Also, he's really nice and good-looking. Too bad for him that his rescuer seems to have some mental problems, as Frank will find out during the next couple of days...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7227763/chapters/16405831"> Here</a> is the sequel, guys! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was like in a movie. Not the good kind of movie, though. Like somebody not really talented had scripted this day, incident after incident, making Frank's life in only a few hours a complete misery. And now, there he was, sitting in the grass by the (way too empty) road, waiting for anything at all to happen. He was pretty sure it was almost midnight by now, but he couldn't check since – of course – his phone had died. Quite a while ago. And not a single car had driven past during all this time. 

Darkness. No phone. Car broke down. He was alone in a forest. Perfect setup for a really bad horror movie or something. 

The day had started okay, though. Nothing special. He'd gotten up at 7, made some coffee, went to work. As soon as he had reached the diner, things started to go downhill. Although he was on time - well, almost, only about 4 minutes later than he should have been there, but come on – his boss kept yelling at him for no fucking reason whatsoever. First of all because he, apparently, always was late. Then, after countless apologies and promises it wouldn't happen again and that he would work a little longer to make it up, he actually started serving the people. It was around half past 8 by then – perfect time to get a nice breakfast on a Saturday morning. 

Naturally, the diner filled quickly and he had his hands full. It turned out to be an _extremely_ stressful morning when one of the coffee makers broke. And it wasn't his fault that it happened while he was using it, okay? He had done everything perfectly fine, pressed the few buttons, placed the cups... And suddenly it just wouldn't work anymore. 

After wasting about 10 minutes trying to make it work again, he ended up facing his fate and told his boss about it. His boss, obviously, was not very impressed. About the coffee maker, but also because Frank had spent precious minutes scurrying around it, panicking and leaving the other three waiters completely by themselves. He screamed so much that his face turned red and Frank could see a big vein throbbing on his forehead in anger. He was about to send him home by that time, but Frank almost fucking _begged_ him not to and insisted it really wasn't his fault and he would work even harder now to serve the customers. Because he really needed the money. Really. Otherwise, he would have been out of there in no time. 

Everything was fine after that until noon. Fine being defined as no more conflicts with the angry douche who happened to be Frank's boss and lots of making coffee with the only coffee maker left until around 11, when people finally stopped ordering so fucking much coffee. 

But then a customer with a really big mustache and sunglasses came in, who turned out to be an even bigger dick than his boss. Frank took his orders, a _Corn Chowder_ , number 36 on the menu, so Frank simply served him a fucking Corn Chowder. That customer then claimed to have ordered a completely different soup, a _Potato Leek_ , number 42 on the menu. _He had not fucking ordered that._ Anyway, since apparently everybody and their grandma had gotten up that morning just to give Frank a horrible time, that asshole also decided to start yelling at him, telling him that one simply couldn't be dumb enough to misunderstand his orders. 

Frank kept insisting he had brought him _exactly_ what he had asked for, he had even _written the order down on his pad, for fuck's sake_. After earning a warning look from his boss, he decided it would be the best to just apologize as well and took the order back and serve number 42 instead. He knew he had done nothing wrong, though. Corn Chowder and Potato Leek. 36 and 42. That's _nothing_ alike. Jesus Christ. 

Anyway, when he was walking back to Mr Dickhead, the new soup on his tablet, he tripped. He fucking tripped just a few inches before the customer, ending up falling forwards and spilling the hot soup all over Mr Dickhead's back of the head, his suit and the floor of the diner. And _of course_ it was a big fucking deal, he felt like everybody either yelled (including his boss) or laughed at him, and no apology would make it up. His boss insisted Frank had done it on purpose because he had been arguing with the customer before. Frank _swore_ it had been an accident, because seriously, he wouldn't spill hot soup on anyone purposefully, what the hell, but no.

Needless to say, Frank was fired.

What a horrible fucking day.  
And when he got home he found a _graffiti_ on his front door, saying the very creative insult _You are fucking dumb, fucker_. Very funny, whatever intelligent kids had done that must be very proud of themselves. Frank had a guess who might have done it, then again there were a lot stupid kids in this neighbor hood, most of them between 12 and 17 years old or something and nothing but shit in their heads. Maybe moving into a flat in an area where crime and drugs wasn't uncommon – seriously, the guy living above him took some hardcore shit – had not been the best idea. But at least the rents were okay (they had been until now, without a job it would be hard to pay, like, anything at all) and the tendency agreement didn't forbid smoking inside. So, yeah. 

About half an hour later, he had managed to scrub off most of the color, now it looked like just a shadow of the words. But you still could tell what it said.

Frank had decided to take care of that later and just watched TV and smoked a couple of cigarettes for the next couple of hours, because the day had been shitty as fuck and he really needed a break.

When it turned 6 and he had calmed his nerves, he got up again and decided to drive into town to get something to get rid of the paint on his door. Like, a spray or something. He didn't know, he'd just ask the shop assistant. 

But he never got to the shop. Instead, he followed the urge of driving out of town. Without paying attention to where he was going and without any destination to go, he just drove on and on. It helped him to free his mind, and focus on the positive things in life instead. He was still young, healthy, the job had been fucking torture anyway, the customer and his boss were giant morons anyway, and someday fate would pay them back and get them what they deserve. Frank would be able to get rid of the graffiti eventually. And tomorrow, he would look for a new job. With a nice boss. Where you wouldn't need to get up at 7 and be on your feet until evening. Maybe something including his interests, like music. He could totally start something with music. Man, he missed playing the guitar, due to his fucking job there was almost no time at all left to play. Well, now he had time. 

Just when he had come to the conclusion that earth wasn't that much of a place similar to Hell and decided to head back home, it happened. His car started to make weird, rattling noises, so he halted and checked. When he couldn't detect anything suspicious, he wanted to continue driving and maybe go to an auto shop the next day if it didn't get better. 

Well, he wasn't able to drive anymore. The engine just wouldn't work. No matter how hard he tried or begged or hit the wheel, the car didn't start.  
And there he was, in the middle of nowhere in some kind of forest, with nothing but a not-working car and an (by now) empty pack of cigarettes.  
_Fucking amazing._ Easy to stay positive. Frank wasn't about to completely panic at all.

**

After what felt like 4 hours, but it easily could have been only 30 minutes, when all hope was gone, he could spot lights coming towards him, half a mile away. It was hard to tell at first because the light kept disappearing in the woods, but Frank was pretty sure. _A car was coming._

Fucking finally. 

He jumped to his feet and prayed the driver would stop and help Frank. A strange, tattooed guy in the middle of the woods in the dead of night wouldn't look very trustworthy, he supposed. But well, he had to try. 

The car came closer. Frank started to wave almost hysterically, trying to make clear he _really needed help_. Confidence left him when the car didn't slow down as it approached. 

_Please, God, please make him help me,_ he begged.

And then, just when Frank had been sure it would drive past, it did slow done. And the driver pulled over, halting next to Frank, opening a window. 

“Oh, fucking shit, thank you,” Frank breathed, leaning down to be able to look into the car and speak to the driver.

A black-haired, young man smiled at him. Frank noticed he was really pale and had feminine facial features.  
“Car broke down, huh?” he asked, now grinning and eying Frank's car standing by the road for a second. “Well, that sucks.”

“Y-yeah, sucks a lot,” Frank answered. He couldn't believe his luck, that guy had actually halted and was talking to Frank. Surely he would help? “Please, can you-”

“Sure, man. I don't know much about cars so I probably won't be able to fix your problem, but I could take you back into town and you could come back tomorrow with people who now how to help?” 

Frank nodded happily. “Sounds amazing, thank you so much.”

“Nah, it's nothing,” he said, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Just get in. Where do you need to go?”

“Uh, Belleville, New Jersey,” he said, looking unsteady, “That's quite a while from here, isn't it? It would be fine if you'd just brought be to the next town or something, I could sleep in a hotel, just please don't leave me here.” He knew he sounded desperate and pathetic, but right now he really didn't give a shit. He was tired and exhausted and he just wanted to sleep and start the day over. 

Luckily, the driver just laughed and nodded. “Don't worry, I won't. Belleville is pretty far away, yeah, but you're lucky because that's where I'm heading.”

“Really?” Frank asked, eyes wide. “Oh, that's amazing. Seriously.”

“Don't make it a big deal. Just get in.”

“Okay.” Frank hurried back to his car, making sure it's locked, then hurried back to the other car. He opened the passenger door and sat down, groaning. “Ugh. Man, thank you so much. You're my savior, literally. I thought I would have to spend all fucking night out here.”

“How did you end up here, anyway?” The black-haired guy said, starting to drive. “I'm Gerard, by the way. You can call me Gee.”

“I'm Frank,” Frank said, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes tiredly. “Had a really bad day. I got fired and somebody sprayed some shit on my front door and just everything seems to be horrible. I just needed to get out of there, you know.”

Gerard made an understanding noise and nodded, eyes on the road as he drove.  
Frank felt weird complaining about life to a stranger, but he kinda needed to get everything out. “So I just drove for as long as I wanted, trying to calm down. I work – worked – in a diner as a waiter, and some customers can just drive you crazy... Also, my boss is like the biggest fuckwad on the entire planet.” He ended up telling Gerard different stories about how unfair he had been treated, how hard the job could be sometimes. Gerard didn't comment much on it, just hummed and nodded and laughed when appropriate from time to time. 

“You should be glad you got fired, then,” he said when Frank had finished. 

“Oh, I am,” Frank agreed. “It just angers me _how_ it happened. That guy did not order a Potato Leek, I swear to fucking God.”

Gerard laughed. “I believe you, Frank. - Hey, you must be thirsty, right? There's a bottle of water on the backseat.”

“Fuck yes, I'm thirsty.” He turned around, grabbed it and drank hastily. Now he noticed he didn't even eat anything since this morning and his stomach grumbled furiously. 

Gerard heard it as well. “Sorry, don't got any food. When we're in the next city, we can get you a burger or something.”

“Please,” Frank comments, “Heaven must have sent you, you're saving my fucking life.”

Gerard just giggled and Frank smiled because it sounded cute. They fell into silence after that, Frank had closed his eyes and focused on not falling asleep. If he wouldn't feel so exhausted, he might have fancied Gerard a little. He looked attractive, to be honest, and he seemed to be kind and cute. Also Frank didn't exaggerate when he said Gerard had saved his life, because seriously, he would have had to wait until morning if he would have driven past. 

**

Turns out he had fallen asleep, because he woke up some time later from a weird, dreamless sleep. Frank's eyelids felt heavier than usual and he decided it was best to keep them closed for the moment. There was a throbbing pain in the back of his head, so intense he felt nauseous, kinda like a really bad hangover. His body hurt and he really needed to pee. 

It took him a while to remember what happened and notice he wasn't sitting on a car seat anymore. Instead, he could feel hard wood underneath him, and a wooden backrest against his back. This confused Frank enough to open his eyes.  
He definitely wasn't in a car anymore. Now he was sitting on a chair in the middle of an almost empty room, the only light coming from a small window on his left. It was located pretty high on the wall, telling Frank he might be in a kind of basement or something. 

What the fuck?

His heart started to race, he squirmed and noticed his hands were bound to the chair behind his back and his ankles were tied to the chair legs.  
Okay. How the hell had he ended up here? Where was that friendly guy, Gerard? His head ached way too much to think straight. Just, what the fuck. Seriously. 

“Hello?” he shouted after some minutes of trying to get rid off his bonds. “Hello? Can anybody hear me? Help me!” His voice sounded raucous and harsh, his throat felt dry. “Hello? Anybody?”

“I'm right here,” a voice behind him said, making Frank jump. He knew that voice, it was Gerard's.  
Frank squirmed on his chair, trying to turn his head enough to look at Gerard, but it seemed to be impossible. “G-Gerard? Gee? What the hell is going on, man? Look, can you please help me, some sucker has fucking tied me to this fucking chair, I-”

“Oh, I know, Frank,” Gerard stated calmly, finally moving so Frank could see him. He placed himself right before him, crouching down by the chair and looking up at Frank. The way he gazed at him with his deep, pretty eyes and the playful smirk on his thin lips made Frank shiver. 

“I don't-”

“Shush, Frankie,” Gerard said harshly. “I know who tied you to that chair.”

Frank felt like he already knew the answer. “Who- who was it, then?”

Gerard rolled his eyes, keeping that oddly sweet smile on his lips. “It was me, silly. I have drugged you, and kidnapped you, then I brought you here where nobody will distract you and tied you to the chair so you won't leave me. And then I waited for you to wake up. Well, kinda, it got boring and I was tired so I slept a couple of hours and came back later,” he told him, making an excusing expression when he spoke about leaving Frank here without him.

Frank didn't know what to say. He couldn't believe it, Gerard had been so fucking nice? It didn't make sense to him. Maybe the drugs were still clouding his mind. 

“Why?” was all he could think of.

Gerard chuckled, finally taking his eyes off Frank for a few seconds. “Because you seemed worth it.”

“Worth it?” Frank repeated, raising a brow. “What-”

“You were lost, and hopeless, and I needed to take care of you.”

“The fuck? No, I'm fine! Jesus, I might be having a hard time, but what- I, it's not like I-” He lost track of what he was going to say, a mess of thoughts in his head.

“Shh, it's fine, Frankie. It was, uh, my pleasure. No need to thank me. I will keep you safe.” 

“I don't- no! No, what the fuck! Let me go, right now!”

Gerard shook his head, looking upset. “That won't happen, Frank.”

“You're sick! I want to leave, Gerard. You can't force me to stay here!” Frank looked down at him, raging. What the fuck was that guy thinking? Was he out of his fucking mind?  
Instead of getting angry himself, Gerard stayed calm, his face now looked pondering. “Well, actually I can... Look, I've bound you to the chair, the door is locked. You can't get out of here without my help. And no, I'm not sick.”

“You're fucking mad!” Frank yelled, panic and anger rising in his chest. 

“Calm down, Frankie-”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Make me, Frankie,” he said, smiling sedately. He then put his hand on Frank's thigh, caressing him gently. “You need to calm down. It's going to be fine, relax.”

“Don't you fucking touch me!” he spat, trying to squirm away with no success. “You psychopath!” 

“I'm not a psychopath,” Gerard stated. “I just like psychotic things.” He chuckled a little, making Frank contemplate why the hell he had found this exact chuckle cute before. The noise made him feel like he needed to throw up now. 

“What do you think you're doing? This is fucking kidnapping, I'm going to get you locked up in prison!”

“You might need to talk to the police for that, right? I can't see the police here,” he objected, actually moving his head and looking around, as if he was _really_ looking for the police.

“As soon as I'm out of here I-”

“Ohh,” Gerard said, grimacing. “There's the problem. You think you can get out of here. I see.” 

Not able to ignore the panic anymore, Frank simply let go. “You can't do that. You can't keep me here. People will come look for me, and then they will-”

“Who? Who should come for you? Frankie, you literally told me there's nobody in your life who cares.”

“I- what?”

“You told me how much your life sucks, not mentioning a partner. You said you feel lonely sometimes, and that you need someone-”

“The fuck? I did _not_ say that!”

“Yeah, you did, I heard it. Also you told me you got fired, so nobody will wonder if you don't go to work anymore or something. You said you live alone in a flat with weird neighbors you don't talk to. Makes me come to the conclusion that nobody will look for you. You should be glad I was there to take you.”

“I am not fucking glad about that! Oh God, you can't be fucking serious. Let me go!”

Gerard shook his head, patting Frank's leg pityingly. “No. You better accept that soon, or it'll make you sad. I didn't bring you here to make you sad. I want you to be happy. Smile for me, Frankie.”

“No!” Frank shouted. “You're not fucking serious, right? Drop the bullshit and let me go, Gerard, you're freaking me out.”

Now Gerard's friendly expression changed and he looked rather hurt. “Of course I'm serious. Look, Frankie, I'm offering you a completely new life. You don't have to worry about anything other than pleasing me anymore, no job, no stupid kids who write insults on your door-”

“Please you?” Frank stared down at him, disbelieving. “The fuck does that even mean? I don't want that, I want my life back!”

“I thought your life sucks,” Gerard implies, ignoring Frank's questions.

“Well, yeah, but it'll get better, you fucker,” Frank bellowed. “Obviously I don't want to be here instead!”

“There is absolutely no need to insult me, Frank,” Gerard replied harshly. “You won't talk to me like that.”

“Then don't fucking bottle me up, dumbass!”

Gerard got up, his face unreadable. He simply turned around and began walking towards the door. When he had reached it, Frank realized he was about to leave. Without Frank, obviously.

“H-Hey, what are you doing?” he shouted, sounding desperate.

“I'm giving you time to think about your behavior,” he stated coldly, fingering a key out of his pocket. “Obviously you're not able to appreciate my actions just yet.”

“You can't leave me here. Untie me and then let me go. Please, just let me go.” 

Gerard shook his head sorrily. “No, Frankie. I don't want to leave you either, but I really think you need time for yourself. It's important for you to have a private sphere so you can be happy. But it's also important that you're clear about what kind of privilege you're able to enjoy from now on.” He opened the door, looking back at Frank.

Frank shook his head no, panicking. “Don't- I want to leave. Please. Please don't just go and leave me here. Please!” 

“Think of a good apology and I might forgive you. You don't need to feel lonely, I will be back soon. I'm going to bring food as well, so you better be good or you won't get any. What do you like, pizza?”

It confused Frank how Gerard could stay calm. Fucking shit. “You don't need to come back if you just let me go-”

“I'm bringing pizza. And donuts, okay? And water? Beer? I'll see. Now shush, behave yourself, remember you're a guest. Bye, bye, Frankie.” He smiled and closed the door.

“No, wait! Gerard!” But Gerard didn't answer. Some minutes later, he could hear a car start and then drive off. Fucking fantastic.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself. “Fuck.”

_Rationalize, Frank,_ he thought to himself. _You need to stay calm. He will come back and then you will convince him to let you go. He can't just keep you here forever, he'll get bored eventually and let you go. Right?_

Also, his car probably still was by that road. Even if people didn't drive there often, at some point they would notice it. And they would wonder whom it belonged, and the police would get involved, and they would find out Frank had been kidnapped. And then they would come for him and save him.

Yeah.

Frank nodded emphatically. That was how it was going to work. 

He might not have a workplace where people would miss him, but there still was his landlord. And he had a good reason to find out where Frank was since Frank had to pay rent for the flat.  
Maybe his mom would try to contact him? He sincerely regretted not talking to her for several months in this moment. It was very unlikely that she would want to make things up just now.  
So that was two options. Two possible ways this could end well.

Those two and the one Frank would like the best, involving Gerard coming back, apologizing and telling him it was all just a big fucking prank.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank had plenty of time to contemplate the whole situation before Gerard came back. After replaying the whole thing in his mind countless of times, he'd come to the conclusion that it would be best to just play along. Give him what he wanted. Eventually, there would be a way to escape, Frank just had to wait for the opportunity. 

Also, he kind of depended on Gerard right now, because he _still_ really needed to pee. And he was getting kind of hungry. Problem was, Gerard wanted a fucking apology from Frank, and Frank honestly didn't know what to apologize for. For freaking out after being told he had been kidnapped? Freaking out was a pretty appropriate reaction, Frank thought. And he had insulted Gerard, but as if that was big of a deal. Frank insulted people on a regular basis. That little fucker shouldn't be such a pansy about it, Jesus Christ. 

Frank also had enough time to check out the room he was in. It wasn't exactly big, maybe twice as big as his bedroom. There were a few shelves with tools and cleaning devices on them, also a couple of cupboards and a broomstick in the corner. And then there was the tiny window, which was way too small to climb through by the way, even for Frank. Also, it was too high and therefore out of his reach. But maybe, if he stood on the chair, he could at least have a look outside. Maybe he could contact a person walking by, or leave some kind of message to draw attention to himself?   
If there were any people out there - Frank didn't know where Gerard had taken him. It was possible that he was in some kind of old house in the middle of nowhere after all. 

To look out of the window, Frank would have to get rid of the bonds first. And that was harder than he had imagined it to be, his hands were bound so tightly that he hadn't even been able to loosen the rope around his wrists the slightest bit. His body was almost numb from the uncomfortable position, and the chair blocked every attempt of loosening the rope. It seemed hopeless. 

And then Gerard returned. Frank didn't have a clock, but it felt like he had been gone about two or three hours. He was carrying a bag, and the smile had returned to his face.

“Here I am, Frankie,” he said cheerfully. “Missed me?”

Frank hummed. He was going to _try_ to be nice, but it was going to be hard. Gerard fucking crept him out.

“Been thinking about your behavior?” He placed the bag by the chair, then turned around to lock the door again. He then put the key back into his pocket and stepped towards Frank.  
A delicious smell of pizza came from the bag next to Frank, making his stomach grumble loudly. Fuck, he was hungry. And thirsty. And he needed to pee.

“Yeah,” Frank said through gritted teeth. 

Gerard smiled. “Good. So, is there something you want to tell me?”

“I really have to pee,” Frank answered, making Gerard nod patiently. 

“I thought so. You can release in a minute, but I want to hear the apology first. And then you can eat and drink as well.”

Frank sighed. “I'm sorry, Gerard,” he responded, avoiding Gerard's gaze. The other man made a disappointed noise. “I'd been expecting more than just that, to be honest. Don't you want any food?”

“I'm sorry for insulting you and, uh. Getting freaked out. Please forgive me.”

Gerard smiled and petted Frank's head. “Ah, well, that wasn't exactly perfect, but you're getting there. I'm glad you're remorseful. I'll teach you how to apologize properly some time, okay?”

“Sure,” Frank said, trying very hard to not sound annoyed. 

“Good boy,” Gerard encouraged. “Okay, so let's relieve your bladder, shall we?” 

He started with the bonds around Frank's ankles, then stepped behind Frank and untied him from the chair, making sure that his hands were still bound together though. 

“Now, I need to warn you. You should know that I'm armed and if this is just a stupid trick, I might kill you. I don't want that, really. But I won't let you run away or anything. Got that, Frank?”

Shit. Frank kinda had been hoping this would be the opportunity to escape. He hadn't known Gerard was carrying a weapon, though. “Yeah. I don't want to escape, I just _really_ need to pee.”

Gerard chuckled. “Okay then.” He gripped Frank's arms tightly and pulled him up. Frank couldn't help but sigh, it felt so good to move again. Gerard then pushed him forwards gently, towards the door. He grabbed the key with one hand, the other one still tightly holding Frank. He wanted to escape, surely he could just knock Gerard down, take the keys and run? But the weapon. The fucking weapon made him hesitate a second too long, and then Gerard had already opened the door and both his hands gripped Frank again. 

They stepped through the door and Frank found himself in a hallway with several doors. The building must be bigger than he had thought.

“Where are we?” he asked hesitantly.

“You don't need to know, Frankie,” Gerard said softly. “No need to worry about it.”

He guided Frank to a door and stood in front of it. “Okay, I'm going to untie you know. You better don't try to run, or you will regret it.”  
Frank just nodded, then he could feel the rope around his wrists loosen until he was free to move his arms. He stretched them for a second, enjoying the blood flowing freely again, then opened the door in front of him.

“You have one minute.”

He closed the door behind himself quickly, trying not to think about how weird it was to do your business with another person _right_ outside the door, listening to everything you did. The door to the tiny bathroom couldn't be locked, so Frank just shrugged and relieved his bladder. Felt so good.

He then washed his hands, trying not to look in the mirror above the sink too closely. The man in it looked horrible, his eyes drained and bloodshot, the brown hair messy and the skin way too dry. Surely, Gerard could not think he was _happy_ this way. What the hell?

“You ready?” Gerard shouted, knocking on the door.

“Yeah,” Frank answered, sighing and opening the door again. There Gerard was, smiling, holding the rope in his hands.   
“Please don't truss me up again,” he begged. His limps fucking hurt and he really didn't want to get in that uncomfortable position again. “I promise I won't escape. Please.”

“Fine,” Gerard agreed, eying him distrustfully. He grabbed his wrist and hold it tightly as they went back into the room. “Sit down. There's food and drinks in the bag, take what you want.” He was pretty cheerful again, obviously happy that Frank really hadn't tried to run away. 

“Thank you,” Frank said, taking the bag onto his lap after having a seat. He opened it, trying to block out Gerard's constant stare as he looked inside. There was a big bottle of water, which Frank took out first of all. He opened it quickly and took big gulps, some of the water running down from the corners of his mouth and down his neck where it was absorbed by Frank's shirt. Gerard licked his lips hungrily, watching every single move, obviously liking what he saw. 

The next thing Frank got out of the back was a pizza box, obviously the source of the amazing smell. Frank opened it and looked at a pizza salami, already cut in 4 pieces.   
He began taking the salami pieces off the pizza, earning a suspicious look from Gerard.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I'm a vegetarian,” Frank explained, taking the first bite. The pizza was still warm, and – honestly – _so_ delicious. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Gerard's voice sounded disappointed again. “I should have known that. Now I got you pizza with salami on it.”

“Oh, no, it's not a big deal,” Frank argued. “I made it a pizza margarita. It's fucking delicious, by the way.”

“Glad to hear that.” He sat down on the floor in front of Frank, cross-legged, supporting his head with an arm that he had placed on his knee. And he kept staring at Frank. It was creepy.

Frank tried to not bother while eating the whole fucking pizza, and then two of the donuts Gerard had bought. It got really distracting as time went by, though. Frank really wanted to ask him to stop, but knew it wouldn't do any good. Probably just upset him again. 

“So, have you already adjusted to your new life?” Gerard asked kindly, taking out a cigarette box and opening it. 

Frank watched him, now that he saw the cigarettes he felt like he really, really needed a smoke. “May I... have one?” he asked, shivering.

“Oh, I got you your own pack. Should be in the bag,” he answered softly, the next second there was anger in his voice. “But you should answer my question before you ask your own.”

“Sorry,” Frank mumbled, searching the bag. When he had found the box on the bottom, underneath a bag of chips, his fingers started to shake slightly. He ripped it open, took one out and put it into his mouth. Gerard tossed him his lighter after he had lit his own cigarette. “Thank you,” Frank said, lighting the cigarette. He inhaled deeply, immediately feeling his body relax. Man, he had needed that smoke. While staring down at the box to avoid Gerard's eyes, he noticed something. “Gerard, uh... How did you know what brand I smoke?” 

He hadn't realized until now, but it seemed Gerard hadn't picked a random one but chose Frank's favorite brand, the one he always bought. 

“Oh, I found an empty pack by your car earlier,” he explained. “Guessed you threw it away since there aren't that many people who smoke out there.”

“M-my car?” Frank said, feeling sick again. 

“Sure. I had to get rid of it. Obviously it couldn't stay there by the roadside. People would become aware of it, silly.” He wrinkled his nose, shaking his head and smiled at Frank. Frank didn't smile back.

“Oh. Of course.” He simply said, mind racing. Okay, so that was one opportunity of getting saved less. Of course Gerard would not forget Frank's car. He wasn't stupid. Fuck. 

“Now, answer my question from earlier, or I will get angry.” Gerard inhaled deeply, his eyes practically piercing Frank. 

“What question?” Frank asked, distracted.

Gerard got up and came closer to Frank, leaning over him. Frank pulled away as much as he could before his back hit the backrest. Gerard moved even closer, his face not even an inch from Frank's. He could have counted the eyelashes above Gerard's bright eyes if he had wanted to. 

“I asked if you already got used to living like this,” he demanded, putting the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and inhaling. 

“I- uh,” Frank stumbled, trying to avoid Gerard's intense stare. “I don't- uh, kinda, I guess?” 

Gerard blew the warm smoke into Frank's face before throwing the cig onto the floor, making Frank's eyes water.

“Kinda, huh,” Gerard commented coldly, not paying attention to Frank's tears. “Kinda is not enough.”

“It's been not even a day, I need more time, maybe?” Frank tried to save the situation. Gerard was very displeased.

“You are so disrespectful, Frank,” he complained, drawing his brows together. “Don't you even see how much I do for you?”

“It's not that, it's just-” Frank knew it would be stupid to start the argument again. He did it anyway. “Look, you don't need to do that all for me. I'm not a child, you know, I can care for myself. I can get my own job, earn my own money, pay my rents, _buy my own food_. There's no need to-” A stinging pain on his cheek made Frank shut up immediately. Gerard had punched him in the face, making Frank drop the cigarette. “Ow, what the fuck?!” 

Suddenly there was a knife on his throat. Gerard didn't put much pressure on it, but Frank could feel the sharp blade slightly cutting into his skin.   
“Listen to me, Frankie,” Gerard purred into Frank's ear. “I really don't want to kill you, but you can trust me, I would. Stop fucking with me, I'm dead serious. You will stay here. For the rest of your life. I will feed you, I will be your only companion, and when I die, you will die as well. We are friends now. You and me. I'm the only one you've got. The only one who cares. And you better fucking appreciate it!” The knife dug a little deeper into Frank's skin, he could feel a thin drop of blood running down his neck. 

“Fucking kill me, then,” Frank provoked. He was 60% sure Gerard wouldn't actually do it. And if it was true that he would keep Frank here forever, he didn't really want to stay alive anyway. Who wanted to live like that? “Do it. Come on.”

Gerard growled and removed the knife from Frank's neck. For a brief second, Frank thought he had won, but then Gerard let the knife dash down onto Frank's arm. Frank screamed in pain, looking down at Gerard's blade stuck in his lower arm. He hadn't completely gored him, like, you couldn't see the tip of the knife coming out of the other side of his arm, but the cut had to be pretty deep because the blood started to pour out of the wound immediately. “What the fuck-” he gasped before Gerard took his chin into his free hand, forcing him to meet his raging eyes. 

“I told you to stop fucking with me,” he said with a sweet voice. His eyes flinched restlessly as he breathed into Frank's face. “I've warned you. Don't tell me what to do. It'll only cause pain. Just fucking obey and you will have it good here.”

“You are fucking sick,” Frank hissed. “What the hell is wrong with you? My fucking arm-” 

With a strong pull, Gerard removed the knife from Frank's flesh, making Frank cry out and the blood ooze even faster. “You should be glad it was only your _fucking arm_ , Frankie. Just imagine it would have been your dick. Sounds painful, hm?” He smiled at him briefly before finally letting go of Frank's chin, concentrating on the wound again. “That doesn't look painless as well, though. Your blood looks delicious.” 

“Ex- Excuse me?” Frank gasped, shocked. That man was a fucking psychopath.

“So thick and dark and red,” Gerard whispered, lowering his head to Frank's arm and gripping it tightly so Frank couldn't pull away. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily, as he felt Gerard's tongue licking across the cut.

“What the fuck?!” he exclaimed, trying even harder to pull his arm out of Gerard's viselike grip. 

“It tastes amazing,” Gerard murmured happily, letting his tongue slide across it one more time before standing up straight and looking down at Frank. “Now we're connected. I drank your blood. You're mine.”

“That's fucking gross, man,” Frank shouted. “You're a disgusting fuck! Let me go, you psychopath!”

“Oh Frankie,” Gerard chuckled. “You can't escape.” 

“Fuck you!” Frank exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Yeah, I can.” He tackled Gerard, pushing him onto the floor, trying to steal the keys. This was it. This was the opportunity to escape. He just needed to get that fucking key...   
Gerard had put it in his pocket, where he now had put his fist around it, protecting it. His other hand clutched around the knife, holding it into the air, unsure if he should stab Frank with it. 

Frank fought really hard, but the other man's fist wouldn't let go of the key. “Get off me, Frankie,” Gerard breathed angrily. “Or I will stab you.” 

Frank shook his head furiously, but had given up already. His body stopped moving and squirming, finally lying on top of Gerard almost motionlessly. Gerard pushed him off himself effortlessly, and climbed on top of Frank instead. He sat down on Frank's hips and pressed his left hand against his chest to prevent him from getting up. 

“That was stupid, Frank,” he commented, sounding almost bored, but his voice quavered with anger. “You just ruined your privileges of smoking, sitting around untied and drinking beer. I would have gotten you some tomorrow, but under these circumstances...” He got another rope out of his pocket, tying Frank's wrists tightly together again. Frank didn't say anything. In fact, he had to keep his mouth shut, or he would start to cry immediately. The tears kept swelling up in his chest, making his throat ache painfully. The rope cut into his skin, but he didn't care. This was all so fucked. 

“I will have to punish you for this, Frankie,” Gerard continued after the rope was firmly fixed around Frank's wrists. “You're going to regret that.” 

“I-I'm sorry,” Frank said, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “I just want to leave. Please. I'm sorry.”

Gerard tutted and wiped the tears away with his thumb. “No no, Frankie, don't cry. I know it's gonna be hard, but you gotta face the consequences. Be a big boy.”

“Can't you just let me go?” Frank begged, crying harder. “Please. Please, I'll do anything you want, but please let me go. I'll do anything.”

Gerard got up from Frank's body and pulled Frank up as well, leading him back to the chair and making him sit. “No, Frankie,” he said gloomily, tying his hands to the backrest again. “I will never let you go. You're my new best friend.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Frank had started to actually cry now, loud sobs escaped his throat and he wasn't able to stop. “Please-”

“In fact, I do have some plans for you. But you don't have to worry about that. That's why you're here, so you never have to worry again. I'll take care of you, I promise.” He kissed Frank's forehead, making the other man sob even louder. “You will be just fine. Now, do you need help to go to sleep or are you going to be okay?” When Frank didn't answer, Gerard shrugged and got out a syringe out of one of the cupboards. “If you only knew how much I dedicate myself to your well-being. I _hate_ needles, I can't fucking stand them. But it'll help you to sleep, Frankie. You will be fine.” 

“What's that shit?” Frank cried, trying to squirm away from the sharp needle that Gerard now lowered onto his arm. “I don't want that, please, I can fall asleep on my own-”

“It's a drug that makes you calm down. You've had a rough first day, you deserve it.”

“No, please-” Then he felt the needle in his skin and slight pressure on it, and he gave up. Only 5 seconds later, he felt his body go limp, his head fell onto his chest heavily and it became incredibly hard to keep his eyes open. 

“There you go, Frank. Doesn't that feel just fine? Sleep well, Frankie,” he cooed, kissing Frank's hair briefly. “I'll see you in the morning. I'll be here when you wake up. I'll protect you.” And just like that, Frank dropped off to another dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Just like yesterday, the first thing Frank felt was a horrible headache – but today, it was accompanied by a sharp throb in his lower arm. He groaned and regretted it immediately because he realized that had probably told Gerard he was awake. Well, if Gerard was here with him.  
Keeping his eyes closed, he just listened, waiting for any noise that would tell Frank whether he was alone or not. His pulse beat loudly in his ears, making hearing anything really difficult. Then, suddenly, he heard a very quiet scratching noise he couldn't assign. So Gerard must be here with him.  
It wasn't long from then until Frank could hear Gerard sigh, then get up and come toward Frank. He put a cold hand on Frank's cheek, making him jump a little.

“Good morning, Frankie. Slept well?” 

Frank hummed, not really in the mood to talk to Gerard already. He was fucking scared by him after what he had done yesterday evening. _Gerard drank his fucking blood._ Frank hadn't really had that much time to think about it yesterday because Gerard made sure he fell asleep only some minutes later, and it all had been so stressful. And now, thinking about it, it was even more disgusting and abnormal. Gerard was out of his mind. 

“Don't pretend you're still asleep. I can tell you're awake. Come on, don't be a dick. I have big plans for you today!” He sounded like an excited child waking up his parents on his birthday. Which was creepy - really creepy - but Frank preferred this Gerard to the psycho he had been yesterday. So he decided to not make him angry again and opened his eyes. Although the lighting still was poor, it made Frank's headache even worse. Gerard _needed_ to stop giving these drugs to Frank, they made him feel fucking awful.

“There you go, Frankie,” Gerard said brightly, beaming down at his captive. “You slept for so long! I've been waiting for hours for you to wake up.” 

Just leave, then? Open the door, go through it, never talk to me again, stop being a fucking psychopath? Get a job, or friends, or a life that doesn't include kidnapping strangers and fucking cut their arms? “Sorry,” Frank said instead. He would not be stupid enough to restart that argument. No, thanks. 

Gerard smiled happily, caressing Frank's hair. “No, it's okay. It's my fault, actually. I'm going to give you only half of the syringe this evening.” Before Frank could interject, Gerard continued talking. “So, how are you feeling? Little calmer than yesterday?”

Frank swallowed, remembering how much Gerard had hurt him. “Yeah,” he whispered, grimacing. The wound on his arm pulsated painfully.

“Sorry about your arm,” Gerard said as if he could read Frank's mind. “But you need to understand I had to do it. You were disobeying. Disobeying is not okay. You should be grateful, so fucking grateful, Frankie. You've never thanked me, not even once.” 

Gerard's eyes pierced Frank, gazing at him expectantly. “Th- Thank you, Gerard?” He remembered the resolution he had thought of yesterday – give Gerard what he wanted. Make him like you. He will let you go. 

“We really need to teach you how to do such things properly, Frankie,” Gerard responded thoughtfully. “You obviously don't know how to make an apology sound sincere, and that Thank you wasn't really convincing, either... We'll deal with that tomorrow. Or maybe later today. Don't worry, we'll take care of it.” He smiled. 

“Okay,” Frank said, feeling uneasy. Gerard was so fucking weird. “So, uh. What are your plans for today?” He added nervously. 

“I won't tell you just yet. I know you're excited, but you have to be patient, okay? It's gonna be lots of fun!” His joy disappeared suddenly, and a furious look appeared on his face instead. “But before we come to the fun part, I will have to punish you for your behavior yesterday. You have been a really, really horrible friend. You attacked me! Do you understand that this was wrong, Frank?”

Frank nodded numbly. “Yes. I'm sorry.” 

“I bet you are. I will have to punish you anyway. You have to learn from your mistakes. You're going to be a better human from now on, I'll teach you to be good.” 

“And... how are you going to punish me?” Frank asked fearfully. He hoped Gerard wouldn't scar him any further. He liked his skin, and the tattoos on it, and he really didn't want any of it ruined. 

“Oh, I'm glad you ask. It makes me feel like one of those villains in the movies and comics who tell their victims about their evil plans...” A childish smile appeared on his face. “Except that I wouldn't hurt you if you didn't deserve it. You know that, right? - Good. Anyway, since I had lots of time to think of something good while you were asleep, I have made a list of possible punishments. Some of them are pretty brutal... But you know, I won't make use of those until it's appropriate. Don't think the one you will get now isn't severe, I'm just saying there is even worse. Okay?” 

Frank nodded. Gerard scared him so much, how could he talk about _hurting_ him that cheerfully? It was like he was excited to do it, like it was something to look forward to. 

“You don't seem very eager,” Gerard stated, disappointed. What the fuck. “You will need to participate, though. In fact, you will be punishing yourself.” 

“What? A-And how?” 

“Well, as you probably remember I cut your arm with a knife yesterday, right?” Well, obviously, yes. It fucking hurt. And they'd talked about it, like, 2 minutes ago. Gerard didn't expect him to answer, either. “That's what you are going to do to yourself. I bet it still hurts like ass, doesn't it? I want you to use the knife on the same spot again, but you have to push the knife in your flesh on your own. Reopen the wound, basically. Just a little deeper than yesterday. You think you can do that for me, Frankie?”

“I-” He could not be serious. Reopen the wound? What the hell, oh my god. Frank wasn't even sure it had fucking _stopped_ bleeding. “Gerard- no. No, that's just- that's sick.”

Gerard giggled as if Frank had complimented him. “I know, right? I've always been creative. Thought you'd like it. I chose the punishment because it makes you show remorse at the same time. It's brilliant!” 

“Gerard, please, don't-”

“Stop disobeying!” His happy voice suddenly turned into a yell, making Frank jump and shut up. Okay, so this was what it was gonna be. Fucking amazing.  
Gerard gazed at him furiously, breathing heavily. When Frank didn't say anything for the next 30 seconds, he calmed down a little and put on a forced smile.  
“Good boy. Now, I'm going to untie you. You better don't do anything stupid. Understood?” 

“Yes.”

“Very well.” Gerard stepped behind Frank who didn't even consider trying to run away again. He felt weak, exhausted, his headache almost killed him. He kind of had accepted his fate. And he hated himself for it.  
Gerard loosened the rope around Frank's wrists and Frank moved his hands, trying to get any feeling back into them. It sort of felt like they were completely dead for a few seconds before the blood shot back into them, the feeling so intense it almost hurt.

Frank placed his hands on his lap, waiting for Gerard to command what to do. He really didn't want him to get any angrier... 

It didn't take Gerard long to hand Frank the knife he had used yesterday. Frank took it, hand trembling. He felt like he really needed to use the opportunity and knock Gerard out with it – he didn't really want to kill him – but as soon as the thought had formed in his head, he could feel a cold blade on his throat. Of course, Gerard obviously wouldn't let Frank be the only one armed. He didn't trust him. 

“Okay, you ready? Just push the knife into the wound again. You are allowed to scream, by the way, but you cannot stop pushing the knife deeper until I tell you to. You might need to press a little harder than you think, but I guess you'll figure out... Go, Frankie, what are you waiting for?”

Frank had placed the knife above his arm, tip touching the wound lightly. Only feeling this little pressure on it sent a wave of pain through Frank's body, making it hard not to scream. He was about to plead with Gerard to think of another punishment – anything that wasn't _this_ painful. And degrading. But Gerard was in a bad mood already. And had a knife against Frank's throat. Probably not a good idea. 

So he choked down the words, shut his eyes and just started to force the blade into his arm again. A groan escaped his mouth through gritted teeth. Fuck, that hurt. Everything in his body told him to stop, but he couldn't. The pain became more and more unbearable with every passing second, the blade digging deeper and deeper into Frank's arm. Frank didn't know how deep it was by now – he didn't dare looking – but it must be pretty deep because he could feel his own warm blood dripping down his arm onto his lap. 

“Good boy, keep going, just a little deeper,” Gerard encouraged him, petting his hair, but Frank didn't really notice it. He breathed heavily, gasping for breath while trying to concentrate on something different – anything else at all - than the horrible pain in his arm. Now he could feel Gerard's cold hand around his fist grabbing the knife, tightening around it. Then Gerard's hand made Frank's push the knife in a tiny bit deeper before withdrawing quickly and pulling the knife out of Frank's hand. Tears rushed into Frank's eyes and a choked sob escaped his throat, still reluctant to open his eyes and look at the awful thing Gerard had made him do. 

He could hear Gerard's soft chuckle behind his back. “You've done an amazing job, Frank. I'm happy. Now there's always going to be a scar that remembers you of me. And of what you get for being a bad boy. Don't you want to look at it?”

Having the strong feeling shaking his head would be the wrong answer, Frank forced himself to open his eyes. And closed them again quickly. 

What he'd seen was just a bloody mess on his arm. Thick, dark blood poured out of the wound that was the center of his agony, spreading all over Frank's lower arm and hand, his lap. Everything was _red_. Frank felt dizzy. 

“Let's get you cleaned up,” Gerard whispered, and only a second later he could feel his tongue on the wound again, lapping up Frank's blood, making him feel even sicker. 

“Stop-” he pressed, his eyes shut tightly. “Please, stop, oh my god-” His stomach spun unhappily, and Frank felt like he was going to throw up.

Gerard just giggled and caressed Frank's (bloody) thigh, trying to calm him with soft touch while his tongue still danced around the cut. This was so fucked up. 

After what seemed like hours, Gerard's mouth disappeared from Frank's body and he could feel the other man's hands on his ankles instead.  
“You're now going to take a shower,” Gerard said, untying Frank's legs from the chair. “And then you can have breakfast. And then we can start our day properly.” His voice sounded so warm and friendly. 

“I-I'm not really hungry...” Frank mumbled, voice becoming quiet when he saw anger rising in Gerard's eyes yet again. 

“Well, but I am. And I've waited all fucking morning for you to wake up so we can eat together! And I bought you donuts! You better fucking eat!”

Frank lifted his hands protectively when Gerard raised his fist, getting ready to beat Frank. “Sorry. Sorry, I will eat, don't hit me!”

Now he could feel Gerard's hand petting his hair. “That's better. Why can't you always be obedient like this? Why do I always have to get angry at you, huh?” He grabbed Frank's and hand pulled him up, then hold his right arm behind Frank's back. Then he pushed him to go forward and after he had opened the door, they stepped outside. Gerard guided Frank into the same bathroom he had been in before, but this time Gerard didn't wait outside the door, he entered the room with Frank.

“Get naked.” He didn't even look at Frank after letting go of him, turning on the shower to preheat the water. 

Frank hesitated. Hadn't Gerard humiliated him enough? Now he also wanted to see him completely bared? On the other hand, Gerard probably expected him to be grateful that Frank could shower at all. And for the warm water. So, reluctantly, he began taking off his shirt. 

When Gerard was happy with the temperature of the water, he turned around to look at Frank. He'd anticipated to see Frank naked all fucking night and morning. He even considered undressing him while he was drugged and asleep – just to look at him, of course. Okay, yeah, and _maybe_ jerk off in front of him. But nothing too wicked. 

He had decided not to because he hadn't wanted to ruin this moment. The moment he saw his new best friend naked for the first time, Frankie should be embarrassed. Gerard thought it was cute when Frank was embarrassed. (And he had a vivid imagination to jerk off to, so he hadn't really needed to look at Frank's body, anyway.)

So there he was, his head bright red. Gerard was so amazed by Frank's tattooed skin that he didn't even get mad at Frank for leaving his shorts on – he would take them off himself, then. _But, oh God, Frank was so beautiful._

“Wow, Frankie,” Gerard whispered, stepping towards Frank and stretching out a hand to touch him.  
To his surprise, Frank didn't try to get out the way of it, just stood still, breathing loudly and deeply.  
“I didn't know about all these tattoos. I really like the ones on your hands and arms and your neck... But these birds are amazing!” He fondled Frank's stomach awkwardly. “What kind of birds are they?”

“Swallows,” Frank said under his breath. He really didn't like Gerard touching his body like this. He had goose bumps all over his arms and back, and not the good kind of goose bumps. 

“Swallows,” Gerard repeated, nodding. “So pretty, Frank.”

“Thank you,” Frank muttered, avoiding Gerard's piercing eyes. 

He kept stroking Frank's chest for a few minutes, following the lines of his tattoos with his fingers, and suddenly drew back. “Okay, time for the shower. Underpants off.” 

Frank's head turned even redder and he began stuttering. “Gerard, I- don't you want to look, uh, away or something?”

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “You shy, Frankie?” An amused smile played on his lips. 

“I... yeah. I guess.” Frank shrugged. Did Gerard expect him to be like 'Oh, sure, look at my dick you perverted weirdo who I met just two days ago and got kidnapped by.'? 

“You really don't need to be shy. Look, we're friends. You should trust me. I won't... laugh or anything.”

“It's not that,” Frank answered. 

“I don't care. Take them off or I will.” 

Frank threw one last, desperate look in Gerard's direction without daring to actually look into his kidnapper's eyes, then held his breath and took his underwear off. Although he didn't think it was possible, he could feel his face burn even stronger with embarrassment as he stood in front of Gerard, forcing himself not to cover his manhood with his hands. The other man wouldn't approve. 

Gerard made a delighted noise. “That's a solid size, Frankie. Nothing to be ashamed of! Now hurry, the water won't be warm forever.” 

**

The only thing that could have made the shower even more uncomfortable for Frank would be if Gerard was _with him_ in the shower. But he also really didn't enjoy having his kidnapper outside the shower – almost fucking pressing his face against the glass door, his view only restricted by the steam coming from the warm water. Frank didn't know which direction to face – obviously he didn't want to look at Gerard because then he would have a really good view on Frank's private parts. He didn't want to face the opposite direction because that would allow Gerard to stare at his ass, and maybe even touch it – Frank really didn't want Gerard to stand behind him. He was way too fucking crept out by him. 

So he ended up sort of spinning around the whole time, changing his position every few seconds. He was sure he'd just beaten the record for the fastest shower ever. Seriously, he hadn't expected it would be possible to shampoo one's body within these few seconds. 

**

Gerard didn't really appreciate how much Frank was in a hurry, but he didn't complain – he would have enough opportunities to see him naked later. Also, it was kind of adorable how he kept trying to hide his body from Gerard. As if he would have a chance. He seemed to not have internalized he was Gerard's now. The earlier he said goodbye to his free will, the better. It was cute to watch, anyway. 

He handed him a towel when Frank stepped out of the shower. Damn, he looked amazing with his colored skin all wet and water dripping from his dark hair. He accepted the towel, obviously thankful to be able to cover himself. Gerard just watched him, smiling happily. He had been really lucky to find Frank. 

**

The wound on his arm left a dark red stain on the soft fabric of the towel. Frank tried to rub it off half-heartedly, but gave up soon since it wouldn't come off. Gerard didn't complain about it either – just gazed at him weirdly – so Frank decided to not care about it. Besides, it was Gerard's own fault if his blood ruined his towels. Frank sure as hell hadn't wanted to bleed. 

When he had dried himself, the towel wrapped around his waist, he tried to grab his clothes, but Gerard made an unsatisfied noise and shook his head. “You won't put them back on, Frank.”

Frank blushed deeply again. “Uh. Why?”

“Because,” Gerard answered, smirking, and picked Frank's clothes up from the ground. “I'm keeping them for you. I'll get the blood off.”

Frank made an uneasy expression and clung around the towel, which was apparently the only possibility for him to uphold some of his dignity. 

“Do I need to tie you or are you going to behave?” Gerard said, pressing Frank's clothes to his chest with one hand, the other one wielding one of his knives playfully.

“I'll behave,” Frank answered quietly.

**

After Frank had forced down one and a half donuts and drank a cup of water, Gerard finally was satisfied. He himself had eaten only one donut, and smoked a bunch of cigarettes. _Just to torture me_ , Frank thought. He was almost dying to have a smoke. But Gerard had forbidden him to have cigarettes, and Frank wasn't going to beg for it. Frank also would appreciate a coffee or two – which Gerard enjoyed in front of him as well, not bothering at all that it was completely cold since he had gotten it yesterday evening – but since his kidnapper hadn't offered him any, he guessed he wasn't having any. 

He didn't want Gerard to know about the things he enjoyed. Because he would turn it against him at some point, and also because talking about his likes and dislikes would form a kind of bond between them. At least that was what Frank assumed Gerard would think. And he really didn't want Gerard to think so. 

“Okay, ready to know what I've planned for us today?” Gerard said, stubbing out his cig and smiling at Frank sweetly. Frank shrugged, placing his palms on his in bare thighs nervously. He didn't like the way Gerard kept looking at him. Or the way he had touched his chest and belly in the bathroom – or tried to fuck him with his eyes when Frank was in the shower. Also, when he had tied Frank to the chair again – ankles only since Frank had to use his hands when having breakfast – he kept staring at Frank's crotch and caressing his legs. It made Frank _really_ fucking uncomfortable. He wasn't exactly expecting Gerard to rape him – well maybe he _was_ expecting it, just hoping it wouldn't happen. Gerard was definitely fucked up enough to do stuff like that.

“A little more enthusiasm, Frankie,” Gerard commented irritatedly, “I've put a lot effort into this.”

“Sorry,” Frank said quietly. “Tell me.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, grinning. “So, since we're best friends now, I've thought of a nice game that will deepen our friendship!”

“Deepen our friendship?” Frank repeated, raising an eyebrow. “And- how's that going to work?”

“We're going to ask each other questions, taking turns. You know, questions about our lives. I've prepared some I'm going to ask you.” He stated happily, grabbing his notebook which he had put next to him on the floor, and began to read. “Here, for example: When is my birthday? Pretty easy, I'm expecting you to know it.”

“Gerard-” He had literally never told Frank when his birthday was. Actually, Frank didn't know anything about him. Well, except that he was a fucked up psycho and that stuff. And this _game_ , as Gerard called it, was just another fucked up thing. “How would I know that? You _never_ talked to me about anything like that.”

Gerard frowned. “What do you mean you don't know when my birthday is? I thought we were friends...”

“I-”

“It's April 9th. Better fucking remember. Let's try the next question. What's my favorite band? That's actually quite easy, considering there are a lot.”

This was absurd. “I don't know, Gerard. I really don't know,” Frank said, almost desperate. There wouldn't be _any_ question Frank would be able to answer. That would get Gerard probably really fucking mad. 

But Gerard smiled. The last thing Frank had expected him to do. “I get it,” Gerard chuckled. “You're playing your own little game. What is it that you want? You want to start? Okay, fine. You ask me the first question, then.”

“What-” Frank said, shaking his head disbelievingly. When he saw Gerard's eyes fill with anger again, he changed his mind quickly though. “Okay, fine. Fine. Let me think... What's my star sign?”

“You're a scorpio!” Gerard shouted immediately, writing his and Frank's names down on the sheet of paper and giving himself a point. Frank was about to ask how _the fuck_ Gerard had known that, but then decided it must have been the tattoo on his neck. Probably Gerard had seen it and inferred it had to be Frank's star sign. 

Frank fucking hoped that would be it. He didn't want to believe Gerard was more of a weirdo than Frank already knew – like, he didn't want to imagine Gerard burgling Frank's flat to find out all kinds of information about him. Because that would take this whole thing to a whole new, much creepier level. 

“That's correct,” he simply said.

“Okay, my turn. What's my favorite color?” His eyes were so bright, so full of joy. Frank just stared at him, scared. He didn't know. But, judging from Gerard's hair color and the way he dressed, it might be - “Black?” he asked bluntly.

“Yeah!” Gerard beamed, giving Frank a point. “I knew you were just kidding earlier, Frankie!”

Frank swallowed. This was so fucking absurd. 

“Your turn,” Gerard pushed impatiently when Frank hadn't asked the next question 10 seconds later. 

“Sorry, I'm thinking,” he said, clearing his throat to win some more seconds to think of something. “Uh... I don't know. What's my last name?” 

Frank couldn't recall telling Gerard – he also didn't know what Gerard's was – but the other man just rolled his eyes and sighed. “Come on, that's so easy. Iero.” 

“True.” He hadn't pronounced it correctly, though. Frank's last name kind of sounded like 'Eye-ear-oh', Gerard pronounced it as 'Eye-air-oh' instead. Frank wasn't going to correct him, though. Or ask him how he'd known that. Maybe he'd just have to get used to the thought that Gerard's mind was sick. 

“Okay, let's give you another easy one. When is my birthday?” Gerard said, smirking at Frank.

Frank looked at him, confused. Gerard had just told him a few minutes ago, hadn't he? Was he testing Frank now, or did he not _remember_ telling him? “Uh, April 9th?” Frank asked hesitantly, earning an excited yell from Gerard. “Yeah, Frankie! Wow, you know so much about me.”

Staring at him in disbelief, Frank frowned. He was fucking serious, wasn't he? He really didn't remember asking that exact same question before? Something was genuinely wrong with that fucker. 

“What's your next question, Frankie?” 

“Uhm...” Frank made, searching his mind through facts about himself. Facts that wouldn't creep him out even more if Gerard would answer them correctly. “Where have I worked until recently?” At least he knew he had actually told him that. 

“In a diner as a waiter,” Gerard answered immediately. “Come on, you're making it so easy.” 

Okay, next time Frank was going to ask something harder. If he really wanted him to. 

“What's my brother's name?”

Frank shrugged. He hadn't even known Gerard had a brother. “I don't know. Mark?” Another blunt guess.

Gerard looked disappointed. “Oh, Frankie, come on. Well, at least you're close. It's _Mikey_ , not Mark. But I'll give you half a point because at least it sounds similar.” He added something to Frank's name on the paper, then looked up into Frank's confused face suddenly. “You should meet Mikey one day! He'll be glad to see I finally made a real friend!”

“Sure,” was all Frank could say. Of course, why not meet another potential psychopath? Couldn't get any worse, right?

Gerard chuckled happily. Frank noticed once again that - If he wouldn't know Gerard was completely out of his mind - he might have found it cute. Fuck. “Okay...” Frank started. “What's _my_ brother's name, then?”

For a short second, Gerard's face looked like he really concentrated, then he grinned. “Oh, almost got me there. You don't have a brother, Frankie. Good one.”

Okay, another fact Gerard couldn't have possibly known, but still he had. He just nodded, really wanting to ask how Gerard knew all that shit about him. But then, he _didn't_ want to know – the less he knew about Gerard, the better, probably. 

“What's my favorite movie?” Gerard asked next. He was really fucking disappointed when Frank didn't have a clue, and he didn't even make a guess, because come on – there are so many movies, it would have been wrong anyway. Gerard then answered another question about Frank correctly, for some weird reason he happened to know Frank's fucking shoe size. 

Frank kept giving the wrong answers. Neither did he know Gerard's favorite subject at school, his address or his fucking _phone number_ , which made Gerard really upset. He was able to answer Frank's questions, though. Every single one of them. When he'd gotten his first tattoo, the name of his first dog, he even could name three of Frank's favorite TV shows. It was so fucking creepy. 

“This isn't fun anymore,” Gerard said after Frank kept failing to answer correctly, throwing the notebook behind himself. “I really expected you to know me better. I'm your best friend.”

You've never fucking told me any of these and we're not friends!, Frank shouted at him in his head, but his just tried to make a guilty face and apologized. 

Gerard seemed to be a little appeased by his reaction, because he sighed and got up. “Well, at least you got a few things correct. Therefore, I'm allowing you to smoke a cigarette. As a reward, basically.”

“Oh, really?” Frank said, more excited than he would like to admit. Fuck, he needed a smoke. “Sweet, man, thank you.”

Gerard grinned, giving a cigarette to Frank and putting one between his own lips as well. “You could have gotten more than just one, but well. Should have known more answers for that.” 

Frank shrugged and waited for Gerard to pass him his lighter. When the smoke was lit and Frank was finally able to inhale the nicotine, he moaned in delight. It was fucked how much he enjoyed smoking these days. Usually, he wouldn't have valued cigarettes this much, but they'd become a rarity. He embraced every single one he could get. He wondered if there was going to be a time where he could choose when to smoke on his own again? Without Gerard...? 

“I am going to give a reward to myself as well, though,” Gerard stated, taking a drag. 

The undertone in his voice brought Frank back to reality. He looked at Gerard, nervous. 

“Don't look at me with that anxious face, Frankie. I bet you knew it would be coming.” His words increased Frank's fear.

“I'm going to fuck you today, Frankie.”


	4. Chapter 4

No, no, no, no, no. No. Frank was so shocked that he forgot about the cigarette between his fingers for about a minute, and when he moved it to his mouth again – unconsciously – the ash fell from the cigarette onto the towel. He opened his mouth, trying to say anything at all, but couldn't find any words that would be appropriate. He wanted to insult Gerard, to call him a weird fucking freak, but at the same time he wanted to beg him for not raping him. The latter seemed to be more reasonable because Frank knew Gerard well enough to be able to tell that insulting him would make everything much worse. 

Gerard grinned as he saw the anxious look on Frank's face. “Oh, Frankie, don't look at me like that.”

“Please-” Frank said, never ending that sentence because he didn't know what to ask for. Gerard would do whatever he wanted anyway. He had never felt as much at Gerard's mercy as in this moment.

“Aw, you're too cute,” Gerard said cheerfully. “Come on, don't make it a big deal. It's gonna be fine. Let me make you happy.” 

“No. No, Gerard, please no.” Frank suddenly didn't care about the cigarette anymore, letting it drop to the floor regardlessly. “Don't.”

“I appreciate your begging, but that won't change what I'm going to do. I'm just a man, Frankie – a man has his needs. My cock has been panting for your body ever since I saw you first.” 

Frank shuddered, staring at Gerard. “But-”

“I expected you to understand, Frankie. Don't make it a big deal. I can suck you off too, if you want. Let's make it a friendly turn.” 

“No. No, I don't want that.” Frank's voice shook violently. His mind raced, still he couldn't think straight. This just couldn't be happening to him. 

Gerard shrugged, looking a bit disappointed. “Whatever, maybe you'll want it later. Let me just finish my cigarette and then we can get started.” He smiled, taking another drag.

Frank watched in awe how his cigarette got shorter and shorter with every puff. It only could be 2 minutes before he was going to get raped. Fuck. Oh, fuck. He wanted to do something, at least fucking _try_ to get out of this situation. He couldn't just let this happen. No fucking way. But what on earth would change Gerard's mind?

When his kidnapper had ground the cigarette and approached Frank, the panic in his body finally made him act. He began squirming in his chair and, after realizing his hands weren't bound, tried to untie his ankles from the chair.

Gerard just laughed briefly, his hands grabbing Frank's shoulders as he pulled him back onto the chair. “You're such a drama queen, baby.”

“No, fuck you! Stop the fucking bullshit! You're not going to put your cock inside of me, for fuck's sake!” He shook hectically, trying to make Gerard let go. “You fucking psychopath, I won't let that happen!” 

“Calm down Frankie, or you will regret it,” Gerard cooed, his voice slightly uneven from the effort he had to expend to keep the other man on his chair. He grabbed Frank's arms and bound them behind his back again. Frank cursed and squirmed, desperately trying to get away. “You bastard! Don't you fucking – This is so sick! Untie me _right now_ , you can't fucking do that to me.”

“There are two ways to do it, baby,” Gerard said, moving to stand in front of Frank. Satisfaction and lust burned in his eyes as he looked down at Frank's half-naked body and the helplessness in his face. “One: you stop being a pussy and let me fuck you. I might even prep you a little. That's the way it's gonna be nice for you, the way I want it. Two: you keep fighting me, I'm going to drug you again, and then I will use you for my pleasure. Without any preparation, for as long as I want. Your choice. I don't really care. I'm going to cum in your ass, Frankie, no matter what you do.”

Frank hadn't noticed the tears in his eyes until they started rolling down onto his cheeks. Fuck, now he _was_ being a pussy. But he couldn't fucking help it. “You won't fucking do that!” he shouted, trying his best to keep his thick voice somewhat even. “I'm not letting this happen. Go fuck yourself, you fucking sick freak!”

Gerard smiled at him softly for a second, then sighed and walked over to one of the cupboards. “Don't you fucking drug me again!” Frank yelled, pathetic. He knew there wouldn't be anything he could do if Gerard injected him that shit again.

“Don't worry, it's a different drug.” Gerard got another syringe out of a drawer, looking at Frank happily. “It's going to be nice. You won't pass out again - I want you to witness what I'm going to do to your sweet little ass.”

“You're sick,” Frank breathed. “You're fucking sick.” 

He got more and more desperate with every step Gerard came closer. And then, every attempt of squirming away unsuccessful, the needle was in his arm. “Fuck,” Frank whispered as he felt the substance spread in his body slowly. He could tell it wasn't the same drug as he'd been given yesterday evening, this one felt different. He wasn't knocked out immediately this time. Although his body went limp only a few seconds later, it just wasn't the same. Kind of like he was numb, but his brain still worked. “Please,” Frank tried, looking up into Gerard's anticipating eyes. “Please, Gerard, don't. Please...” He kept begging until his mouth wouldn't obey him anymore, the words only reached his throat where they were formed into a dull groan. The rest of his body seemed to have stopped functioning as well; Frank's head fell onto his chest heavily, his upper body only held upright by his arms being tied to the backrest. 

“How's my baby boy feel?” Gerard said softly, crouching down so he could look into Frank's face. He reached out a hand to caress his cheek, smiling calmly at his victim. Frank's heart started to pound even heavier when he realized that he could feel Gerard's hand on his skin – and also the hard wood against his back. Now he also noticed he also could feel the furious throbbing coming from the wound in his arm. What the fuck was that, he could still feel everything but not control his muscles? He forced himself not to think about what kind of crap that drug was. Why the fuck did Gerard have that bullshit anyway? 

“Didn't expect you to be able to answer. Can't talk, huh? Can't move, either? Oh geez, we're going to have so much fun. Well, I will.” His hand now started to move downwards, to the area of his body that still was covered by the towel. Frank tried to move away, squirm, protest, _anything at all_. Nothing worked. He'd lost the power over his own fucking body to this creep. Only a tiny, unsatisfied hum escaped his throat. 

Gerard's hand had reached Frank's belly, and he let his fingers slide across the swallows again. Every now and then he would allow himself to tease Frank by slipping one finger underneath the towel, feeling his pubic hair. When he had had enough, he used his other hand as well and ripped the towel open, exposing Frank completely. He stared down at his limp cock, licking his lips. “Still don't want me to blow you?” he asked, caressing it fondly and looking up into Frank's terrified eyes. He groaned, begging Gerard would understand. No, he fucking didn't want that. 

“If you don't want me to, kick me now,” Gerard said, chuckling and waiting for a few seconds, seeing the desperation rise in Frank's eyes. “Sorry, I have to tease you a little. You were naughty earlier. And I don't have enough self-control to not taste you, anyway.” Without another word, he lowered his head and licked across Frank's dick. The younger man made an involuntary sound as the wave of pleasure ran through his body. No, no, no, Frank thought. Fuck, no.

“See, you like it,” Gerard noted and used his hands to hold the shaft, then put Frank's dick into his mouth, bobbing up and down and caressing it with his tongue until Frank was hard, which took him quite a while since Frank tried his best to resist the feeling of pleasure. He hated himself for enjoying the blow job – but he just couldn't deny how good it felt. Also, why not enjoy it until it started to hurt? Maybe it was just the drug talking, but getting raped wasn't so bad so far. 

Suddenly, just as Frank was getting into it, Gerard pulled away, eliciting a protesting moan from Frank. “My turn now, baby,” he said, untying his ankles. 

The panic was back at an instant. Now he was going to get fucked in the ass. And Frank could do nothing about it, nothing at all. Fuck. His erection disappeared immediately.   
Gerard stepped behind him and loosened his wrists as well, then he pulled Frank up and placed him carefully on the ground next to the chair. He turned him until he was lying on his stomach, his head turned to the right, staring at a cigarette butt that was just two inches away from his face. 

Gerard knelt down between Frank's legs after spreading them a little, his hands caressing the other man's ass and thighs. This was fucking torture for Frank. His hands were literally inches away from Gerard's, laying flat on the ground by his chest, he could have just pushed him away – If the drugs weren't in his system, crippling his body. 

Please don't, he repeated over and over again in his mind. Please. God, please. 

“You should be grateful, baby,” Gerard whispered with a dark undertone in his deepened voice. “So grateful. I could have fucking raped you when you got in my car, and killed you right afterward. You should embrace me like a fucking _god_ for taking care of you like I do, and also for waiting you to adjust to the new situation.” Without any warning, he pushed a finger inside Frank, making him want to scream in pain and surprise – only a dull moan came from his throat. 

“Like that feeling, huh? Like me fucking you with my finger?” He pushed it in further, watching Frank's body rise and fall fast as the younger man started to breath even heavier. “I see, you want to be a good fucking slut for me. Appreciate that, baby boy. God, you look so fucking nice right now. Can't wait to feel my cock entering your tight hole. So fucking tight, and warm. Shit.” He had begun to quicken his pace. Frank tried his best to keep him out of his ass, but since his muscles just wouldn't do anything he ordered, there was not much left to do. He just kept making involuntary groans, unable to express any words. 

Gerard entered a second finger, scissoring Frank's asshole. That's when the pain started to get really bad. Frank had never been fucked in the ass. And from what Gerard was doing to him right now, he couldn't really understand why people enjoyed anal. It just fucking hurt. Plus, hearing the freak doing it to him dirty talk didn't really help Frank getting used to it, either. 

“I want to fuck you so badly,” Gerard breathed, fingering Frank faster. “You won't be able to walk for days. You'll be so sore, baby. Fuck...” Overtaken by the lust, he pulled his fingers out of Frank and opened his pants. Then he placed his stone-hard cock against the virgin hole. Gerard grabbed Frank's hip with his left hand and used the other to hold his dick in place, now starting to press against the hole.

Frank whimpered, tears rolling down his face once again. He tried to focus on the cigarette butt in front of him, staring at it intently, trying to ignore the increasing pain in his ass. 

Gerard moaned and spat down on his cock and Frank's hole, using his tip to spread the _lube_ a little. After applying a little more pressure, Gerard's head slipped into Frank. 

The younger man screamed. Well, he would have – but a long groan came from his throat instead, racked with pain. Shit, that hurt. That hurt so fucking much. 

“So tight, Frank. Oh fuck.” He didn't give him the chance to adjust, but pressed his whole length into Frank in one fast thrust. And then he started to fuck him, fast and rough, without giving a single shit about how Frank felt. 

_I'm getting raped_ , Frank thought. _He is fucking my ass. He's raping me. I'm getting raped._   
The drug made him feel somewhat light-headed, like the truth hid behind a thick wall, but he could see it anyway if he tried really hard. Unfortunately, his whole body seemed to focus on what Gerard was doing to him, which made it impossible to block out any of it. His ass _burned_ like hell, Gerard's obviously thick cock forcing its way into him over and over again. He now had placed his hands on either side of Frank's body and lay on top of him, thrusting into him at an incredibly fast pace.   
It was possible that Frank's ass ripped, right? What if Gerard actually broke him? He really didn't want to think about it, but his body wasn't his to control anymore anyway, so of course even more horrible images filled his brain immediately. His own blood being used as lube. Gerard's cock covered in Frank's blood, which made his abuser even more horny. Gerard _licking out the blood of Frank's ass,_ like he had done to his arm.   
Frank felt sick. He wished he could throw up in Gerard's face, just to make him stop. 

Gerard now pulled out and grabbed Frank's legs, pushing them underneath the younger man's body so Frank was kneeing on the floor with his head still on the floor, but his ass in the air, exposed for Gerard to fuck him. He grabbed his hips and pushed all the way in again – in this position it was even deeper and more painful than before. 

“You enjoy this, baby?” Gerard panted, starting a quick pace again. “Such a dirty boy. So good for me. On the floor, with your ass up for me. So fucking tight.” His fingers dug into Frank's skin so hard that he was going to leave bruises. “Just wait till I find your sweet spot, you will _beg_ me to never stop fucking you. I'll make you feel so good. So fucking good, Frankie. You will love me for it. You'll never want me to stop.”

Except Gerard wasn't able to find Frank's _sweet spot_ because his own dirty talk sent him over the edge just then. He pushed into Frank's ass one more time, then released deep in the other man. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, clutching to Frank's limb body. “Oh, fuck. Frankie...”

He stayed like this for some seconds, riding out his orgasm. Frank could feel the older man's sweat drop onto his back, and for a minute or two everything he could hear was Gerard panting behind him. 

Finally Gerard pulled out and got to his feet. “That was amazing, Frank. Your ass is perfect for me.”   
He stared down at the other man, watching the tears fall from his eyes. Those coming from his right eye had collected on the bridge of Frank's nose, now dropping onto the floor. “Don't cry, honey. Please don't cry. I know it probably hurt a little, but if you would have been a good boy before and just obeyed me, I would have been much nicer. I told you. It was yours to decide. You wanted me to fuck you like this. Deep and rough and fast...” He shuddered from arousal before closing his pants again. He then got a rope from the floor and stepped next to Frank again to tie his wrists behind his back. “I'll be gone for about an hour, maybe two. Don't be sad, I'll bring something for you. You'll wait here on the ground like a good boy, yeah? The drug won't last that long anymore, that's why I have to tie you. Just stay like this. You look so fucking good, Frankie.” 

When he had tied the other man up again, he caressed Frank's hair briefly. Then Frank could hear him walk toward the door. “See you soon, baby. I'll miss you.” And then he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry :(  
> 

Gerard had been right. The effects of the drug began to ebb away soon after Frank's kidnapper had left, slowly but surely. Frank wished they would have lasted a lot longer – he didn't feel ready to face what had happened to him just yet.  
But as the minutes passed by and he gained the control over his body again, he became more and more aware of it. _Gerard had raped him._ It felt so real all of the sudden.  
You hear it on the radio or see it on TV every now and then – someone got raped; mental instability and trauma; rapist arrested, or whatever. Of course rape was an awful thing, but it had always seemed so far away to Frank that he never really thought about it. He never had feared _he_ would become a victim one day. Never. And now there he was, still fucking crying, leaving a little puddle on the floor in front of him that slowly spread towards the cigarette butt. 

With the ability to control his body again the pain increased too. It had already fucking hurt when Gerard had fucked him, when he was drugged, but now – the weird fog in Frank's head becoming vaporized – the feeling became more and more intense. His ass still burned, and it felt unnaturally stretched. Also, Frank felt dirty. Used. Unworthy.  
Although he knew it wasn't his fault at all, and it was Gerard who he should blame, he couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't deserved it, maybe? No higher powers would make someone innocent go through something like this. What in his life had he done wrong to deserve getting kidnapped, hurt and fucked against his will? 

He started to cry even harder, the bare walls echoed with his loud sobs. Why did this have to happen to him? He would have done anything to get his normal life back. He missed his junkie neighbor, missed sleeping in his own bed. He even missed getting shouted at by his boss. And hell, he missed his mom. Frank had the strong feeling he would never see all those things again. And even if – for some hardly probable reason – he should get out of here, would he be able to go back to a normal life? Or would he end up in some mental hospital, like it was said in some of the cases on TV? He felt like the way Gerard treated him could definitely lead to a kind of mental illness. Frank didn't want to think about it, but what if he turned out just as crazy as Gerard? 

Frank cried for hours, and he hadn't even come close to stopping when he heard Gerard unlocking the door and stepping in. 

“Hey, baby. I got you fresh clothes from your flat- What's wrong? Why are you crying?” 

_Because I got fucking raped, you asshole_ , Frank thought, but kept his mouth shut and continued to sob uncontrollably. He now heard Gerard drop something to the floor, then his hurried steps toward Frank. He knelt down next to Frank's body and placed his right hand on Frank's shoulder, trying to calm him down. “It's gonna be fine. Can you move your body again?”

Frank nodded weakly. 

“Okay. Sit down on the chair again, yeah? I'll help you.” He began pulling Frank up and somehow managed to have him sit back down on the chair without Frank cooperating in any way. He just kept crying his eyes out. 

Gerard refrained from tying his bound wrists to the chair and squatted in front of him. “Stop crying. Damn, was it too rough for you? I'm sorry...” And Frank could see he really was. 

“Please, c-can you let me leave now?” he sobbed with a thick voice, desperate when Gerard shook his head again. 

“I'm sorry, Honey, but no, I can't. Do you want to get dressed? I got you clothes.” 

“In a minute,” he sniffed. 

“Okay,” Gerard said quietly, caressing Frank's leg. “Does it hurt that bad? I'm sorry, I didn't think... Can I get you anything? A... I don't know, an ointment or something?”

Frank shook his head. “No. Thanks.” 

Gerard sighed. “Okay then. I'm really sorry. I'll be more careful next time, okay?”

That had Frank crying even harder. _Next time_. God, no, please. “Gerard... don't do this again. Please. Please don't...”

“But I have to. Sex is important in a good relationship-”

“But we're not in a relationship, Gerard! God, you fucking kidnapped me! You can't- Please, don't you _see_ what you're doing to me? You're breaking me. You're ruining me. I can't stay here any longer, just please, please let me go.”

The older man just looked confused. “What do you mean? Of course you want to stay here! Look, I bought you food, and smokes, and I got you clothes, and you can take a shower whenever you want-”

“I hate it here!” Frank shouted, his tears had disappeared suddenly. Now he was just angry, so angry at Gerard. “You got me here against my will! You fucking drug me every day, you play psychotic games with me, you're scaring the shit out of me. And now, you also _raped_ me. That's so fucked!”

Gerard looked like Frank had slapped him. “I- what? I didn't rape you. I made love to you. I wanted to show you that we can love each other-”

“You are sick! Gerard, you are fucking sick! You need to see a doctor or something, get help, please. But don't keep me here.”

“I don't need help!” Gerard hissed. “I'm fucking fine. I'm normal. I'm just having fun with my best friend!”

“We're not friends!” Frank shouted, his pulse throbbing furiously. “I hate you! I fucking hate myself because of you! Can't you just do me a favor and fucking kill me already-”

Gerard's fist hit Frank faster than he could have reacted; he hadn't even seen it coming. “Don't you dare fucking say that! You're so precious, I won't kill you! I need you! I love you!”

Frank's face burned painfully, making the tears shoot back in his eyes again. “Fuck you,” he whispered, forcing down the tears. “You don't even know what love is. You're just a sick fucking psychopath.”

For a second, Frank expected Gerard to hit him again, and he begged it would be strong enough to at least knock him out. But Gerard opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, then closed it again and just stared at Frank.  
And then- without saying a single word, he turned around, unlocked the door, and left. Frank couldn't really understand what had happened for the following minutes. He was alone...?  


**

 

It took him several hours to realize Gerard wouldn't come back. Firstly he kept sitting on his chair, crying a lot more, kind of waiting for Gerard to return. Then, after realizing he wasn't tied to the chair and could stand up, he started to try to open the door – which didn't work since he couldn't use his hands and didn't own a key.  
When he had come to the conclusion that trying to get out was hopeless, he started to wander around the room. He dragged the chair to the wall underneath the window so he could look outside like he had wanted to before. Frank climbed on the chair and looked out to see lots of green – the first color he had been able to see for _days_. The monotone gray of the room he was kept him drove him crazy. 

Unfortunately, the green was the only thing he could see. Grass, trees, bushes. He was in a forest or something. No people around. Frank tried calling for help, anyway – without success. 

He stayed like this for some minutes, simply enjoying seeing some color. Then it got boring and he jumped off the chair again to continue looking around the room. Noticing he still was completely naked, he went over to the bag with his own clothes that Gerard had brought. After struggling for several minutes he finally managed to slip his pants on – without closing the zip, because how would he. He also wasn't able to put on a shirt, but it was better than nothing, right?  
Frank opened every cupboard (which is harder than one might think with your hands tied behind your back) and looked into the drawers – most of them were empty. He found the one Gerard had always gotten the drugs out of, there were 3 syringes left. And then he found a huge fucking spider in the next drawer that scared him so much that he decided he didn't want to see what was in the other ones.

Frank loathed spiders with all his heart. 

On the floor he found Gerard's notebook. He dropped to the floor and awkwardly used his mouth to open it.  
The first page was a drawing of Frank. He was asleep on the chair, with his head on his left shoulder and his body limp, but Gerard put the words _Sleeping Angel_ next to it, which Frank couldn't help but find sweet. In a weird, twisted way.  
And he started to feel remorseful at the same moment. Gerard might be a fucking freak – but things like this proved that he wasn't trying to be mean, right? That he really was just sick? That maybe, deep inside, he just wanted some love?

 _Damn it_ , Frank thought, _if he would not have kidnapped me, maybe I would have developed feelings for him? If he'd just asked me out, maybe he actually could have made me happy?_

This whole thing was so fucked. So damn fucked. 

When Frank had succeeded to turn the page (again- really hard without hands) his remorse disappeared immediately. He now looked down at the punishments Gerard had planned for Frank – and that just proved how crazy he was yet again. 

_Make him drink his own blood to show him how good he tastes._

_Drug him and make him suck your dick._

_Don't feed him for several days until he begs for food._

_Beat him with something until he bleeds. (Take care of his beautiful face afterward. Don't want him ugly when I fuck him.)_

_Take Viagra and fuck his brains out._

Frank stopped reading there. He didn't want to read any more of this sick shit. 

Breathing heavily, he sat back down on his chair. There wasn't anything in this room he could use to cut his ropes. All he could do was wait for Gerard to come back.

 

**

He still waited two days later. He had eaten the last donut yesterday and drank almost all of the remaining water. Frank had found his cigarettes – but they were pretty useless without Gerard's lighter. 

Slowly Frank started to worry if he would be able to get out of here some day. He realized that, if Gerard wouldn't come back for him, he would _die_.

**

Frank's fear increased when Gerard hadn't showed up 3 days later. He felt hungry, and thirsty, and alone. He regretted being so rude to Gerard – maybe, if he'd stayed calm, Gerard would have let him go? He had ruined all his chances by insulting him like that. 

Now he could just hope Gerard would forgive him and return. Please. Frank was so thirsty...

**

What must have been one week later, all hope was gone. Frank was dehydrated, hungry as fuck, and weak. He had tried to drug himself multiple times – just to save himself from this hell – but he hadn't been able to inject the syringe into his arm. By now he was convinced Gerard wouldn't come back. He would just let him die.

Frank cried every day. Which was a bad thing because, obviously, it made him lose even more fluid. But he couldn't control it. He was wrecked. 

He had accepted he would die. He basically waited for it. 

Frank often thought about all the things he had wanted to do in his life, but now never would be able to fulfill. He'd never be able to make things up with his mother, or tell his boss how much he hated him. He'd never have the chance to move into a bigger flat and get his own dog. He'd never play the guitar again or get a job as a musician. Even those stupid words on his front door would never get removed by him.  
And he'd never know if people found out what had happened to him. Frank hoped he wouldn't just be one of those people who were reported as missing, body never found. He wanted the world to know it had been Gerard who had done this to him.  
Either that, or Gerard should come back. He really wanted Gerard to come back. He hoped Gerard would save him. He waited for Gerard.

And waited. And waited.

 

**

 

Suddenly Gerard was awake. He sat upright in his bed, looking around in the darkness, breathing loudly.

He'd just had a weird dream. It had scared him. God, so so much. 

“Mom?” he cried, still breathing heavily. Tears had swelled up and now rolled down his cheeks. “Mommy? Mom?” 

But nobody answered or came. It took Gerard several minutes to realize he wasn't even in his parents' house anymore, and he wasn't a child; he was in his own flat, almost 30, and alone. He hated being alone. 

He tried to remember what his dream had been about, but it was gone. What was left was just panic in his head, panic and one name: Frank.  
Quickly, Gerard got up and put on some clothes. It was probably around 3AM, and he really should try to fall asleep again, but he _really_ had to see Frank now. Luckily he remembered to take the keys with him, then hurried out. 

He got into his car and started the engine. Now that he thought about it, he felt really guilty for not visiting Frank for such a long time. He probably missed him. Gerard had been a really bad friend...  
Hopefully he would not have found a new best friend. Gerard would hate to see Frank with somebody else. It was _Gerard_ who took care for him so well. Frank should be grateful enough to wait for him.  
Then Gerard remembered Frank couldn't have found a new friend because he still was in that basement alone. And Gerard had locked the door carefully – nobody would have gotten in there. And Frankie wouldn't have gotten out. 

He smiled happily.

The longer he thought about Frank, the more his feelings mixed. He remembered having some kind of argument with him, and blood. Frank's blood? Oh no, had Gerard hurt Frank? He also remembered tears and sobbing. Or maybe, Frank had hurt Gerard?  
He couldn't recall. But what he did remember was that Frank broke his heart. Yeah, now it came to his mind. Gerard had confessed his feelings for the younger man, his biggest insecurities, and Frank had just called him weird. That cold-hearted bastard. He deserved getting punished by Gerard. Now he could understand why he had not visited him for so long.  
But now, both of them had calmed down, right? Maybe Frank had realized he _did_ love Gerard back? If that was the case, Gerard would be able to forgive him. He still wanted to see him bleed, but in a nice way. He wanted him to bleed for his enjoyment. 

He parked his car about 20 minutes later next to the old building, an old firm where weapons had been produced many, many years ago – nobody had entered it for ages. Except for Frank and Gerard. It was their own little love nest. Kind of. 

Gerard opened the front door and made his way through a long corridor, then went downstairs and got his keys out of his pocket. The door was right in front of him. Just a few more seconds – then he would see his sweet Frankie again. God, he'd missed him. His heart beat happily. 

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. A weird, foul smell hit him immediately, repugnant enough to make him step backwards. Wow, Frank needed to take a shower...

There Frank was, on the floor, laying motionlessly. He was asleep, probably. Gerard couldn't help but feel a little hurt. Why wasn't Frank waiting for him? He had him expected to be more excited. 

“Frankie,” he whispered and approached the other man. He knelt on the floor next to his body and shook him lightly. “Hey, Frank. It's me! Sorry for not stopping by.” 

But Frank didn't react. Weird. Maybe he was pissed because Gerard hadn't visited him for so long?  
“I'm sorry!” Gerard repeated, shaking Frank harder. Thinking about it, how long had he not been here?  
He thought for several minutes. It now was August 29th. From what he had written in his diary, he knew that he had found Frank by that road some time in mid-July. 

Oh.

He had left him here for several weeks without any food or water. 

Frank was... dead?  
No. No, he couldn't be. He loved Frank. Frank wouldn't do that to him.

“Frankie,” he begged, shaking Frank harder. “Frankie, it's me! I'm here to see you! Don't you want to see me? I'm here! I'm here Frankie, please. Please talk to me.”

Frankie never answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't despair, things might change in the next/last chapter?


	6. Chapter 6

Gerard woke up feeling fresh and recovered. Birds sang their songs just outside his window, and he could see the sun rise. He hadn't felt happy like this in a long time. The early sunlight colored his whole room in a bright yellow, making the boring white walls way more enjoyable to look at.  
Why hadn't he thought about painting his room earlier? It would look really cool if the walls were yellow. Or green. Or blue? So many colors he could choose from. 

As he began to feel nervous, he got out of bed. Today was the big day, Gerard guessed. But he wasn't going to get nervous. No, he was a big boy. A man, even. He could handle it. Gerard was smart, too. This dream had been a message from the universe, and he was intelligent enough to not ignore it. So there was nothing to be worried about, nothing to be nervous about. He could stay perfectly calm. The universe was guiding him. 

Gerard went into his kitchen and helped himself to a strong coffee – not because he was tired, just out of habit. He checked his calender to be sure it really had been a dream. Feeling weirdly relieved he realized it was the 2nd of August, not the 29th. Thank fuck. To be honest, that _had_ kind of concerned Gerard for a minute. 

He had been worried about Frank all the time – obviously even worried enough for his subconsciousness to make him dream something as cruel. Of course Gerard was _not_ stupid enough to forget Frank in that building. He had been constantly thinking about him for days. He wouldn't just let him die there. Gerard was a smart man. And confident. Yeah, he was feeling so confident today. 

When Gerard had finished his coffee, he went back into his room to get dressed. He felt like dressing up. Everything needed to be perfect for Frank. So he got out his best, and only, suit, hoping Frank would appreciate it. 

 

**

Sooner than he had expected, Gerard arrived. The way from his home to the old factory seemed to get shorter every time he drove here. Although it was pretty early still, the sun made him sweat. Maybe a suit hadn't been the best choice. 

Gerard's steps accelerated as he went downstairs, heading towards Frank's room. The images of his nightmare became more vivid now, he remembered the dread he'd felt this night and it made his heart beat aggressively. It all had been so real. Well, except for the beginning – Gerard was permanently having nightmares, it wasn't exactly likely that he would wake up in the middle of the night, crying out for his mother, just because of a dream. In fact, he had them so often that he felt like they weren't so bad at all and he kind of took them as messages or inspirations. Some years ago, he had had this really, _really_ disgusting dream with lots of dead people and blood. Like, the whole room was basically filled with blood and lifeless bodies. And Gerard had found himself in the middle of all that, as the only one who wasn't dead. Gerard's biggest problem had been his inabilty to escape the room, so he simply had to eat the people to not die of hunger and drink their blood to not die of thirst. He'd dreamed that when he hadn't valued his nightmares as much as he did today, back then he even was scared and disgusted by it himself. But then he developed, expanded his horizon – and evolved a very intense blood kink. Sometimes this dream would arouse him nowadays.  
Gerard liked his nightmares. They helped him find solutions to different situations in life, they made him see amazing shit. And now they had finally shown him what to do about his little Frankie – or better, what not to do.

Gerard had been thinking about letting Frank die. Frank had broken his fucking heart, torn it into pieces with his stupid crying and shouting and insults. Gerard was going to punish him, definitely. But he wasn't going to let him starve down here. His dream had proven that Gerard wouldn't be able to handle Frankie being dead. No, never. If there was anything important in Gerard's life, it was making Frank survive. He was too precious to die. Too cute and sweet and beautiful and perfect.

Finally, he found himself standing in front of the door. He took one last breath before getting his keys out of his pocket, praying Frank would be alive and excited to see him.  
As soon as he had unlocked the door, he could hear a suppressed yelp, followed by a silent whimper. Gerard sighed in relief when he found Frank sitting on his chair, arms still bound behind his back, gazing up at him. He looked tired and exhausted, his eyes were deep in his holes and his lips were bursted. He was probably hungry and weak, but he was alive.

“Hey, Frankie,” Gerard said, smiling at him calmly. “I'm sorry for leaving you here for so long.”

“Gerard-” Frank's voice was broken and hoarse, and his reddened eyes became wet as he spoke. It broke Gerard's heart to see him like this, but at the same time he felt satisfied to see how much Frank needed him. Maybe now he would be nicer to him. 

“I'm here, Frankie. Don't worry.” The older man stepped towards him to caress Frank's cheek with his fingers. To his surprise, Frank leaned into his touch, closing his eyes, and started to sob silently.  
“It's okay. I'm there.”

Frank nodded faintly, upturning his look to meet Gerard's eyes. “D-Did you bring water? And food?”

Gerard shook his head, frowning. “Oh, sorry, honey. I forgot. Do you want me to get you something?”

“Yes,” Frank sobbed, looking at him pleadingly. “Please. I'm so thirsty, please Gerard.” 

“Okay, Frankie. I'll get you something. What do you want? I can buy anything, just choose,” he encouraged, taking Frank's face in both his hands to make him feel safer.

“I- I don't care. Please. Just food.” Frank had closed his eyes again and Gerard watched his beautiful tears roll down his cheeks until they got stuck between Frank's soft skin and Gerard's fingers. 

“I'll get you something delicious.” Gerard kissed Frank's forehead before withdrawing and walking out of the room, locking the door behind himself. Frank might be weak, but Gerard still didn't trust him well enough to leave the door unlocked.

**

The coffee shop was filled with people, implying Gerard queuing for over 10 minutes before he could finally order 2 black coffees and some cookies. Everyone's eyes in the shop followed Gerard's movements which Gerard couldn't help but find suspicious. It was even weirder that they seemed to know how he felt or what he as thinking, because whenever his mood changed, their facial expressions changed as well. Now that he had noticed it, everyone looked at him rather suspecting and distrusting. Gerard wanted to leave. But he also wanted coffee for Frank. And for himself. He couldn't help but constantly worry about his sweet Frankie – he couldn't lose him now that he finally started to devote love to Gerard. The older man thought what horribly pain he would feel if he came back and Frank actually would be dead... Okay, maybe the nightmares weren't only positive. Without them Gerard wouldn't worry Frank would just die. But without them Gerard would not have checked on Frank today either, so he guessed he should be thankful. 

15 minutes later Gerard hurried back towards the old building in the forest. His car was filled with a delicious smell – since Frank seemed to have enjoyed his last pizza, Gerard had decided to get him another one. Without meat this time. And also he'd bought several bottles of water, new cigarettes and a six pack of beer. Frank would _love_ him. 

As he had expected, Frank scarfed the whole pizza in only a couple of minutes, somehow emptying two large bottles at the same time. He made satisfied, desperate-sounding noises the whole time, making Gerard's cock harden in his black trousers. Mindlessly he brushed his cup of coffee against his own lips whilst watching Frank intently, imagining it was Frank's body instead. He had missed that boy so much.

But he wasn't going to fuck him already. First Frank should eat and drink until he felt a little stronger, also he might want to take a shower and generally relax a little. Gerard pitied the fact that there wasn't a bathtub in this building – he would have loved to provide a nice hot bath for Frank, with bubbles and candle light and maybe even champagne. Just so he could recover and feel cherished.  
If only Frank knew how important he was to Gerard...

When Frank had devoured all the cookies, drunk his coffee in one gulp and smoked 3 cigarettes in a row, he still looked horrible, but not almost dead anymore. When Gerard smiled at him lovingly, he even returned the gesture. His smile suited him perfectly and made him look even prettier. Gerard was so in love.

“Why did you come back?” Frank asked quietly after some minutes of silence. Gerard noticed his voice didn't sound as raucous anymore.

“I've missed you,” Gerard answered honestly. He watched Frank's face intently, hoping to see any reaction that suggested some kind of love, but Frank just stared at him tiredly. “I didn't want to let you die. I had a nightmare and I thought it would be time to come back.”

Frank nodded, then cleared his throat hesitantly. “Wh-What kind of nightmare?” he asked, voice shaking. He seemed to be scared of Gerard, maybe even respected him? Gerard smiled. The once so powerful and stubborn Frank Iero now was his. 

“Oh,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I don't think that's your business. Pretty nosy, aren't we?” Gerard asked. Actually, he didn't really mind telling Frank about it. He just wanted to see the younger man's reaction.

And he got exactly what he'd wanted. Frank blushed and avoided Gerard's eyes, frowning. “Sorry, Gerard,” he answered quietly, now looking at his lap. “I didn't mean to-”

Gerard shook his head and stepped towards Frank, making him shut up immediately and gaze at the older one in fear. “It's okay,” Gerard calmed him. He waited for Frank's facial expression to soften, then sighed and moved closer. “Okay, I'm guessing you would like a shower...?”

Frank nodded. “Yes. Please. But- uh. Can I say something before?”

Gerard paused, looking at Frank expectantly. “Sure.”

Frank's tension increased and he started to stutter. “I- I wanted to... Maybe, I mean- I-”

“Get it out, Frankie,” Gerard said, forcing a dark undertone. He wanted Frank to be scared. He liked him like this, a lot.

“Sorry,” he whispered obsequiously. “I- I wanted to thank you. You know, for- for not letting me die. I really thought I would die here. I-” Tears returned to his eyes and he let his gaze drop quickly, trying to hide them. “Just thank you. I know you would have hated yourself if you would have let me die. That would have been horrible, right? Thank you for rescuing me.”

“Yes, that would have been awful. But I'm here for you, my little pet. Don't worry, I got you.” Gerard smiled. “So,” he said after a couple of seconds, eying the man observantly. “Have you finally accepted that I will keep you here for ever? Have I shown you that you belong to me now, and that you cannot live without me?” 

Frank hesitated, then forcing himself to look at Gerard's face. The older man's lips curled into a smiled when he looked into the submissive eyes which let him know the answer even before Frank nodded his head slowly. 

“That means you will stop fighting me? And you will stop insulting me as a psychopath when I try to show my affection?”

Frank nodded again, a little faster this time. “Yes.”

“You will learn to love me as much as I love you? We will kiss, and touch each other, and I won't have to drug you when I want your sweet ass?” His smile grew wider as he talked, and when Frank nodded again, he almost beamed at him. “Yes. Yes, anything.” 

“Oh Frankie, that's amazing!” Gerard grabbed Frank by the hair, yanked his head up and pressed their lips together. Frank was reluctant at first, but Gerard ignored it, and only a few minutes later he could feel Frank accepting it. Ignoring the lack of passion, Gerard sighed happily and enjoyed the feeling of Frank's stubbles against his lips and chin. Frank tasted so sweet. Gerard, in that moment, was _especially_ sure that he was kissing the love of his life. He opened his mouth a little further, even more joyful when he felt Frank do the same. Gerard let his tongue explore Frank's mouth, caressing the other man's tongue and licking across his torn lips gently.  
When he withdrew, he kept his face close to Frank's and smiled. “I love you, Frankie.” 

Frank swallowed, nodded quickly and tried to look away, but Gerard's hand was back at his cheek, making him force to meet his eyes again. “I said,” he growled, loving to see Frank's pupils go wider in fear. “ _I love you, Frankie_. Don't you want to say it back, hm?”

The tears were back in his pretty brown eyes at an instant. He blinked them away hurriedly before he answered. Gerard tensed up and even hold his breath. This was the moment he'd been awaiting. Now his victory would be official.  
Frank swallowed audibly. “I,” he whispered, forcing his tears away. “I love you too, Gerard.”

______________________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________________________

“Mr Way?”

Mikey's eyes were unfocused, his vision blurry as he stared at the desk in front of him. It was decorated quiet nicely as far as he could tell – some fresh violet flowers had been placed on it.  
Mikey didn't want to be here. He didn't want to talk to Dr Philipps. _He didn't want it to be true._

“Can you hear me, Mr Way?”

Fearing Dr Philipps would think Mikey was mentally ill as well, he forced himself to meet the doctor's gaze. He was a man in his mid-50s, had a well-shaved and trust-worthy face with some friendly green eyes. Mikey couldn't help but hate him anyway. This man tried to tell him his _brother_ was sick. He was trying to tell him Gerard had kidnapped a man, then raped and killed him. _Gerard_ , his brother Gerard who Mikey had always loved and looked up to. He didn't want to hear what the doctor had to say. It wasn't true. It could not be. 

“Did you understand what I said, Mr Way?” Dr Philipps asked, eying Mikey with a concerned and sorrowed face. 

Mikey nodded. “Yes, I did.” 

“You need to be secure this isn't your or your family's fault. There are some kind of mental illnesses that can be caused by certain issues during pregnancy, for example if the mother consumes heavy alcoholic liquors. Since that was not the case with Gerard, we have to consider a disorder in Gerard's brain transferred by genes. There might be a possibility you're suffering from the same kind of mental problem. Mr Way, I need you to be completely honest. Have you ever felt sudden rage, or heavy mood changes? Have you ever felt the urge to hurt someone?” 

Mikey shook his head. “No, sir. No, I'm fine. I just-”

“Yes, Mr Way?”

“I... I can't believe what you said about Gerard,” he admitted. Mikey felt very sick all of the sudden, like there was something heavy in his stomach he needed to get rid off. He would have loved to projectile vomit all over the flowers in front of him.

Dr Philipps nodded sympathetically, but his voice stayed factual. “Many of the patients' family members feel that way. We have to accept a mental disorder is an illness just like any other. It needs to be treated and respected, and maybe the patient will be healed eventually.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Mikey mumbled. _The patient._ His brother Gerard, a patient of a mental hospital. 

“Can you tell me again how exactly you found your brother, Mr Way? I need to be sure you're able to digest it. It's better if you talk about it than bottle up your feelings.”

Mikey nodded. He didn't want to tell the story again, but he was way too exhausted to argue. “Gerard and I hadn't heard anything from each other for several weeks. I wanted to know what he was up to. So I decided to visit him. That was this Saturday, August 29nd, two days ago. I chose that day because I knew he wasn't working on Saturdays. It was morning, maybe 9AM or something, so I expected him to be home. But when I got to his flat, he wasn't there. I own a key to his home, so I let myself in and waited for him to come back. I made myself some coffee, than sat down on the sofa and watched TV. About an hour later, when I just had decided to come back another time because I thought he wouldn't come back any time soon, I heard his car outside the building and some minutes later he entered the room. I immediately noticed something was wrong. Gerard was nervous, his whole body shook like mad, he was barely able to get any words out of his mouth. So when I asked him what the hell was wrong with him, he suddenly started to yell at me that it wasn't my business. I apologized. I didn't want to argue. When he saw my reaction he started to cry and ran into the kitchen, grabbed one of his knives and threatened me with it. Before I could react, he changed his mind and pointed it at himself instead. It was horrible. He would have killed himself if I hadn't tackled him. My own brother would have killed himself, right before my eyes...” The heavy lump in his stomach had moved to Mikey's throat. Now he felt like he needed to cry, and he cleared his throat to prevent himself from sobbing like a child. “I forced him to stay on the ground by putting my whole weight on him. I had removed the knife from his hand by that point. Gerard didn't even try to get me off him, he just cried and apologized over and over. I told him it was fine, that everything was going to be fine. He kept yelling a name. _Frank._ He wouldn't tell me who Frank is, but I guess I know now... Anyway, I called an ambulance and they took him. I went back home after that, trying to understand what happened. Then, this morning, someone from this hospital called me and asked me to meet you. And now we're here.”

“Thank you, Mr Way. Now, can you describe your feelings towards your brother's actions?”

“Are you seriously asking me how I feel about my brother fucking _killing_ a man?” Mikey said, louder than he had wanted. For a second the two man just stared at each other. Then Mikey calmed down a little. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I'm just really... confused.”

“It's okay. Confused in what way?”

“I don't understand. Gerard and I- I guess it's just weird finding out your older brother is a psychopath.”

“You said you haven't noticed any symptoms before?” Dr Philipps asked, beginning to take notes.

Mikey shook his head, hurt. “No, never. Gee was an amazing big brother - he still is, I guess. I mean, he's still Gerard, right? Somewhere?” When the doctor nodded briefly, Mikey forced himself to keep talking. Talking meant he wasn't crying. “He used to be my best friend for many years. I learned everything from him, he was my role model. Gerard was amazing at everything – you should hear his voice when he sings. And you should see his art. It's brilliant. We used to share everything. I told him all my secrets, and so did he. He always was kind of... quiet, I guess? Maybe a bit shy around people he didn't know? But that's nothing I would have counted as abnormal. I loved him. I still do.” 

Dr Philipps nodded and offered Mikey a short smile. “I understand. Are there any questions I can answer for you?”

“What about that Frank guy?” Mikey asked. “How have they found his body? How do they know it was Gerard?”

Sighing, Dr Philipps placed his palms on his desk. “Your brother told the police after he was transferred to the hospital. The ambulance men called them because Gerard did a confession in the car, from what I've heard. Nobody really knew what to do... Well, Gerard was in a half-unconscious state at that moment from all the sedatives and stress. He told the officers where to find Frank's body and that it was his fault he had died, and he apologized over and over. He had kept him in an old basement for several weeks which implied Frank died due to hunger. I assume Gerard is not able to recall that conversation.”

Mikey nodded numbly. “So... He didn't _actually kill_ him, right?”

“No. It still is Gerard's fault though, but we really don't have to discuss this matter now. Do you need to rest now, Mr Way? Your last few days must have been tiring. We can continue talking tomorrow, or on Wednesday if you want?”

“Thank you, I appreciate that... But, uh. Can I see him?”

The doctor's brows furrowed, his front teeth biting down on his lower lip for a short second. “I don't know if you want to, Mr Way. You can, yes. But I'd have to give you some more information on your brother's state, and that would exhaust you even further, I believe.”

“I don't care. I want to see him. Please.”

“Well. Okay then. First of all you have to know that Gerard doesn't know where he is. From what I've heard him saying I believe he thinks he's with his victim, Frank Iero. He keeps talking to him like he was right next to him.”

“So Gerard doesn't know Frank is dead?”

“No. Well, I think he has known before, when he came home and talked to you. When he apologized. But now we believe his imagination has built some kind of different world to protect him from the truth. The human brain can do such things, it's astonishing, really. Gerard hasn't talked to any of our staff yet, he doesn't even acknowledge we're with him. He just keeps talking to Frank. I don't know if he would talk to you, Mr Way. Maybe he wouldn't even recognize you. He's in his own world, and it will take some time to get him back to reality without damaging his mental stability even farther. He's suffering from special kind of psychosis. Actually, he's profiting from it right now. I'm just trying to be clear, your brother might not be able to notice your presence. And - if he does - there's a risk that his protection gets destroyed when he sees somebody he knows. He might brigade you with the incident and realize what he has done to Frank. We can't tell for sure. And after that, he might get depressed, his mental illness may deteriorate strongly. Are you willing to take that risk?”  
He looked at Mikey sadly. Mikey swallowed and wasn't able to speak for half a minute. 

“No,” he said then. “I... I don't want to talk to him if that might make everything worse. But- can I _see_ him? Like, from a distance? I just need to see him. Please...”

Dr Philipps hesitated for a second, then nodded. “I think I can arrange that. But it's going to take a while. Why don't you have a seat in the waiting room and I get everything ready?”

**

Mikey went outside to smoke instead. His nerves were on the edge, and his body trembled. Not even the nicotine could help him.  
He had smoked four cigarettes in a row before he felt able to enter the hospital again. It had given him a slight headache, but any physical distraction was very welcomed.  
Mikey found Dr Philipps in front of the waiting room, gesturing wildly. “There you are. Come on, we can't keep him in there for too long...”

Some minutes later Mikey found himself standing next to the doctor in front of a big glass panel. It was this special glass that allowed you to look through from one side, but was nontransparent from the other. So there he was watching Gerard, but Gerard couldn't see him.

Seeing his brother like this made him feel even worse. Mikey had been hoping to get some kind of benefit from it – maybe it would prove it all was just a big fucking lie, he had thought. But now he saw it. And he knew it wasn't a lie.

Gerard kept pacing up and down the room, furiously talking to somebody only he could see. 

“Can- What does he say?” Mikey stuttered, looking at Dr Philipps with a help-seeking look. 

The doctor pressed button on the keyboard in front of them, letting the sound from the other room be heard.

_”Why do you keep trying to run away, Frankie?”_ Gerard asked, furiously. _”You promised you would stay with me just 4 days ago! Why do you do that to me? You said you loved me.”_ He stood still all of the sudden, facing the wall and started to scream. _“Stop fucking lying! I don't want to hear your lies! Do you wanna get punished again, Frankie? Do I need to fuck your ass again?”_

Mikey froze. He didn't want to hear any more, he really didn't. But he kept listening anyway.

_”Yeah, you slut, you better keep begging or I will make you bleed again,_ ” Gerard stated sharply. _“You know how delicious I find your blood. Let me make you bleed again.”_ He dropped to his knees and moved his hands as if he was holding a knife and cut something invisible in front of him. _”Uh, uh. Don't move your arm or I will cut your throat instead – That's better. Let me taste it, oh God...”_

If Mikey had been crept out before, it was nothing to what he was experiencing now. There his brother was, sucking some illusion's blood and making satisfied, not necessarily innocent-sounding noise. In fact, he sounded like it was turning him on. Mikey's stomach twisted discontentedly. _“Fuck, you're delicious, Frank. You're getting me so hard again – That's right, moan for me. God, that is good-_ ”

“Please,” Mikey uttered, finally being able to look away. “No more, please.” 

He found himself crying and almost begging the doctor to make it stop. He nodded and pressed the same button again quickly, making Mikey's brother's sick dirty talk fade. 

“Oh, shit,” Mikey cursed, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his hands. “Gerard...”

“It seems to get worse every hour,” the doctor commented, pondering. “I might need to give him stronger medications...”

“Please get my brother back,” Mikey pleaded. “Please. I love him. He's not that person in that room. Gerard- Gee's such a sweet person, and he's smart, and funny- and-”

“Mr Way, we're doing our best. But it's going to be a long way. And we'll need your help.”

Mikey nodded. “I'll help. I'll do anything. Just, please...” He felt Dr Philipp's calming hand on his shoulder, carefully pushing him towards the door. 

“Get some rest, Mr Way. Your brother will get better eventually. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Mikey whispered, throwing a look over his shoulder to see his brother one last time before going home. The last thing he saw was him sitting on the floor, back leaning against the wall, crying. His sobs couldn't be heard, but Mikey was able to imagine them anyway. Loud, heart-wrecking sobs that escaped from his brother's throat. Gerard, his brother. His sick brother. His brother who had murdered an innocent man. His brother who was a psychopath.

His brother Gerard who really needed Mikey's help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, that was the last chapter. Thank you so much for reading! :) 
> 
> Actually, this chapter wasn't planned when I started to write the story. I was going to let it end with Gerard finding Frank's corpse, kind of open-ended I guess? Anyway, I decided I couldn't. It would have been too cruel, even for me. That's why I wrote this chapter. Here's a summary of what happened, in case anyone wasn't able to understand (it might be confusing)
> 
> What Gerard believes to be a dream is reality. He really let Frank starve. He found his body August 29th. Mikey talks to Dr Philipps August 31st. The beginning of this chapter shows what Gerard thinks is actually happening now – he doesn't remember talking to Mikey or the police, for him it's still the beginning of August and therefore Frank's still alive. The “suit” he puts on is the clothing patients in the mental hospital have to wear. The car ride might be the ride to the hospital and some time later, when he drives again to buy food for Frank, he might be brought to the mental institution. The costumers in the coffee shop who keep looking at him with a facial expression that suits his own mood and thoughts may be his subconsciousness trying to tell him that this all happens in his head, that something clearly isn't right. He buys Frank pizza, water and cigarettes because he's reliving that memory, and he gets him beer because he recalls wanting to do that.  
> Just as Dr Philipps told Mikey, Gerard thinks he's with Frank in the basement again, and that Frank finally develops some feelings for him. Depending on Gerard's mood, Frank's behavior changes – if he's satisfied, Frank is a good boy, and if he senses that he doesn't live in reality anymore, Frank gets stubborn again. Maybe Gerard's mood got bad because he could feel Mikey's presence - and therefore was close to realizing what's going on - in the last scene? Who knows.  
> There are more parallels between Gerard's fantasy world and reality to find, for example the white walls in his room that he wishes to be colorful. Of course he's talking about the colorless walls of his cell/ hospital room. But I'll leave the rest to your imagination. :)
> 
> I might write a sequel to this later so we find out how Gerard's behavior changes and if he's able to recover. Also, I would find it interesting to let Mikey attend Frank's funeral and meet Frank's parents. But that's not for sure yet. Let me know if you would like to read something like that :) 
> 
> Again – thanks for reading! I hope this wasn't too weird for you. I'm thankful for Kudos and/or comments btw ^-^
> 
>  
> 
> Update: I've started writing a sequel! Read _Tangibility and Belief_[ here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7227763/chapters/16405831)


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